Touch
by Onyxx-09
Summary: And suddenly she just knew. She was falling for him. After her curse is lifted, she was falling for him. Hard. No, no…that didn't cover the feelings that burned deep in her chest as they laid there together. And as she thought about it, the more she is certain: she loved him. And they could never be together. Because he is a mutant, and she is not. Peter/OC. DOFP. Instigator sequel
1. Misapprehend

**_A/N: I know the summary sucks. I'll change it in time. This is the second arc to the Instigator series I've_** ** _inadvertently begun. For those who might be reading this after the first one: hi_**

 ** _So_**

 ** _Here's the thing: I'm going to go see the new X-Men: Apocalypse today (it's release date here). But this story, this arc, is planed to be all around Rainy and Pietro, way, way more than Instigator was. And this arc is planned to not be very long, especially not as long as Instigator (which I am going to go back and edit/rewrite). I hope you guys will give this a chance. Let me know if this sucks too and your honest thoughts._**

 ** _And again, the words that are centered are internal monologues, additional information, or imagery. When it says something like "RED PAUSE SCENE" it's like those words on that color screen for a second (in this case red), like in those old films. Same with short words like "FASCINAT, CHANGE."_**

 _ **[Disclaimer:]** __I do not own anything connected with Marvel or Fox, just my OCs_ _ **]  
**_

* * *

"What's the emergency?" Pietro came to a skidding stop. The girl in front of him wrinkling and holding her nose at the smell of burned rubber. He on the other hand, glances around and then down at her, fooled, disappointed. "Where's the blood?" he pesters. "You said you were crying in pain! Where are the tears?!"

The girl remains sitting with her knees crossed, one elbow propped up to rest her chin on her knuckles. She stares at the mutant with unwavering poise. "You sound rather disappointed."

The young mutant ran a hand over his hat, breathing out a lungful of air. He doesn't like showing his hair out in public too often, not wanting to attract the attention. This, too, she did not know yet.

"Yeah I am," he admits bitterly. "This would have given me a chance to get revenge. I could've finally saw you more vulnerable and expressive."

She readjusts the thin bracelet around her left wrist. She had ran a coat of clear nail polish over her nails last night. "Sorry to disappoint you." Her tone was even, insincere; he already knew that she doesn't mean it.

"I hope there's a reason you had me come all the way over here. I hope it wasn't for nothing again. And you better have a way to pay me back. That was a long journey if you haven't realized." He remarks, dusting off his dark blue denim jacket. He puffs out his cheeks and she thinks he's close to pouting. The thought amuses her.

"Well, no one asked you to _run_ all the way over here. There's a closer bus stop."

He rolls his eyes.

She thought that he had gotten off at a further bus stop—the other thing that Rainy Capulet doesn't know is that this boy, this hyper-active motor-mouth classmate of hers is a mutant. Well, in defense, the two haven't known each other for that long—to be precise, for four months they have been talking under the title of study buddies; for three years they've _heard_ of each other but had never interacted. But they had gotten to know each other slightly more for a certain amount of time, and she was determined to get in as much time as she could with this fast-paced teen.

"There was a conference today that should be starting about right now." She stood from the bench, smoothing down the back of her skirt in precaution. "I couldn't stay there with them, I couldn't go. They asked too much."

Oh.

He already knows what she is referring, and skips to her side. "Your pops?" he asks. Pietro doesn't quite get an answer, at least not a verbal one. "What did they ask you to do?"

Rainy's face skewers, a tiny, cute wrinkle appearing at the bridge of her nose. "They..." And she looks distressed, wraps her arms around her stomach. A hand rose to cover her mouth in repulse. "They...they made me..."

Pietro shuffles closer. Had another sleaze been brought over to her home, he wonders, voicing it aloud. Did her father express that he wanted her to follow after him and become indulged in his boring, soul-sucking occupation? Had her mother expressed more negative feelings toward her own daughter? Had they made her sell her soul? He asked all these and Rainy only leaned forward, almost doubling over.

"They wanted...they wanted me to _wear checkers_...!"

His face fell.

"Are you serious!?"

 _red pause scene_

"No, but in all seriousness, I can't go back. I heard them on the phone once and they were making notes with a lawyer and campaign manager. This election of his is getting serious. I heard them talking about possible policies to propose, plans of action and other things, and I just couldn't agree with them. They wanted me to come to the conference scheduled this afternoon and pose as their smiling, perfect poster child of a daughter." She spat the words as if in disgust.

"Oh."

The two had wondered from the bench and were passing a cheese shop, then a sandwich restaurant, and coming four blocks away from downtown. The dress shoes she wore click against the pavement. She was dorned up in a formal outfit and didn't look the bit to be pleased. In fact, she looks rather displeased.

Pietro hears her stomach gurgle, but she insists that they keep going. Neither had a set destination anyway.

"That does sound like a bit of pressure," he muses. "I can kind of see why you left. I mean, I would have too. I hate things like that. They're so boring and time consuming when you can get a lot of things done instead," he spoke quickly.

She nods. "You just sit in a room and stay silent while they're the ones who do the talking," she explains. There were also cameras and journalists and notepads being scribbled on and the pressure that you had to look _perfect_ , to not cross your knees too far, don't open your mouth so wide, don't touch your hair, and _good lord don't scratch_!

Pietro shoves his hands in his pants pockets. Summer was approaching and the air was growing humid. He regrets wearing this jacket. His grey hair is pinned back at the sides and out of his face by Bobby Pens.

"That, and that my mother had taken happy pills and my father wanted me to be in charge if her while we were there. Like she couldn't have been more responsible and he have talked to her." Rainy didn't raise her voice and didn't hold any malice to her words, though this was normal, expected for her—she usually doesn't.

Her parents have been arguing, occasionally becoming often. Sometimes she has heard them through the walls—she _knew_ it was them this time.

Pietro watches her out of the corner of his eyes, and for the first time, notices that her hair was styled—in crinkly curls, shining—she is still wearing her locket and there are jewelry in her ears. He hadn't even known she wore earrings—her hair had previously been straight and fell in the way all times before.

Before, she hadn't cared about her looks, hadn't been able to.

A month ago, Rainy Capulet had no feeling, no emotion at all, and lost some memories. It had been the result of visiting an Opinokinetic at a traveling carnival who said he could make bad memories go away. She had made a wish, as his attraction entitled, and the wish was turned against her. Only recently had it all been restored, by her convincing and Pietro's influence.

That had all been a month ago, and the mutant was still steadily getting used to this change of her—from a stolid, impassive, and pensive to now holding numerous more expressions.

HEARTS

 _FASCINAT_

CHANGE

And honestly, Pietro hadn't known what to expect when his younger sister had came downstairs to his room earlier that day, telling that some girl was on the telephone asking for him. And he had been alarmed by Rainy's message, saying that she was in distress and in danger. Boy, had he been severely disappointed.

Well, she surely had the _worried_ tone of voice down now, and had him surely convinced over the phone.

Rainy says that she's still getting familiar with her restored senses.

"Is that why you're dressed up," he asks. "I didn't know you wore earrings. It's weird—I mean it's different—-not a _bad_ different! Not bad at all, but it's, ehm..." He blew out another breath of hot air. "It's a good change."

She glances up at him from the side of her eye then back forward. "That was generous." She straightens the short sleeve of her blouse. She had dressed herself, refusing to wear another out of style hand-me-down. "Don't worry. I'll pay you back for your journey. I'd suspect that you like food?"

"Yes I do like food. I don't quite like to go hungry. It isn't pretty when I do."

"I'd expect it's not. You're hardly able to handled when you're levelheaded."

He began to frown. "Don't say things like you know with just assumptions."

"You're right." Rainy shrugs. "You're difficult to keep up with when you are stimulated."

Pietro's mouth turns up. "That sounds even worse."

She wore a small smile, biting her lip.

 _black pause scene_

"Say, I hear that there's going to be a hockey game next weekend—-"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"-—Have you ever gone skating?"

He shrugs. "No. Don't really need to. Don't like it."

"Why not?"

"Because ice is slow...you move too slow on ice."

She doesn't know that he's a mutant. He uses _speech impediment_ as his excuse for seeming so hyperactive.

"Well the court is cleaned the day after the game. Do you know what that means?"

"That you like to run in circles physically like you do mentally?"

She frowns. "Please do try to be less harshful." A hotdog stand is in the approaching distance. She notices his diverge in coarse toward it, and follows. "You seem like someone who's really rambunctious. I know from your reputation that you are a rule-breaker. If arriving at the right time, the whole rink will be open and free to use. And you know how to pick locks, I believe, do you not?"

"I may or may not."

They were at the stand now. She watches him dig into his pockets, before handing a dollar bill and holding up two fingers.

"Don't flatter yourself, doll. Like you'd really need me along. Why don't you just go yourself, or with _your_ friends?" He was bitter, she could tell. Pietro asks for ketchup and covers both sausages with it, brows drawing together and forming a crease between. "All you want is for me to pick the locks so you and your friends can get in. Learn to do it yourself."

He keeps an unwavering eye contact with her slight glare as he bites a large chunk from one of the hotdogs.

Rainy waited until he is chewing to speak so that he couldn't interrupt. "Don't be _ridiculous_. You really think I would go and waste my breathe like this? If I ever wasted my time to ask you something so mediocre, there would have to be something wrong." Her words were hard, though her tone remains soft, only with a hint of an edge that made the other teen swallow, uneasy. "And if I wanted to go with them, I would have asked them. I thought you would be one of the few to take me as that _dense_. Don't go making assumptions without clearly thinking about the details. And no, I didn't only ask because you can pick locks."

By now, the boy was standing, struck silent, still leaning with an elbow against the cart, staring down at her with the one bitten hotdog still raised to his mouth.

He didn't know what to say.

The hotdog vendor exhales with puffed cheeks. It was an uneasy, awkward breath from overhearing the outburst. The vendor didn't look over at either teen, and instead forces a smile at a passerby.

Finally Pietro opens his mouth, already blabbering away. Rainy sighs and looks away.

"Don't say anything," Rainy cuts. She wasn't even facing him anymore.

He considers this, his jaw snapping close.

There's a middle-aged man in a soft t-shirt walking his Dane through a crosswalk. A couple exits a nearby pastry shop, the woman holding a small box is smiling, the man wearing a dimpled grin. In the small eatery behind them, an employee sticks a flyer to the window, one reading of kindness and love and world peace.

Only six seconds have passed though it felt longer.

Pietro extends the uneaten hotdog in his other hand. He's biting into the first one again; Rainy says that she didn't want the offered one.

He insists. "Eat." It was more of an order than a suggestion. "You haven't yet, have you? I know; I bet you didn't, did you?"

She turns the other way, declining. A woman in a business suit comes up then, ordering two hotdogs with relish.

"Rainy, eat." She doesn't, keeping her head turned like a child being force-fed. Pietro closes his eyes and sighs reluctantly. "...If you don't, I won't go to the ice rink."

She turns to him then. His look was stern and he was still frowning. He frowns a lot, she's noticing.

"You wouldn't go anyway."

Well, she was right...

The cart vender spoke up then, advising that Pietro should say that he'll go, that you only live once, that he'd better treat the pretty girl right before someone else does.

The teen rolls his eyes, groans, and gives in. " _Maybe_."

 _ **. . .  
**_ _ **. . .**_

"Do you promise?"

He groans.

Rainy calls him by his last name.

"I'm not making any promises."

She counters, "so do you usually stand your dates up? Where is the chivalry? That is very unflattering, you know."

He began to grow nervous, feeling his ears heat up, pulse quicken. "Now who said any of this was a date!"

Rainy glances over. "Are you _blushing_?" And she grins mischievously.

The sun was beginning to set and the streets were few in occupants. They were on their way back home now, and after asking if he'd walk back with her, he gave that same forced, response as he did when she asked if she would be allowed to care about him.

 _"Can I think of you as someone dear?"_

They had been out all evening, she registers with a glance to the golden watch on her wrist. She spoke that her parents would likely be furious at her absence that day, as she finds a bit of ketchup on her nails and wipes it across her skirt. Her father even more enraged, perhaps, when they arrived at the interview without their daughter.

When asked why she had done it, she only shrugs, stating that she hadn't desired to be there.

They pass a recreation center. There were lawn campaign posters and bits of leftover confetti strewn across the lawn. As he slows his pace, Pietro asks if that had been where her parents had gone for the day.

Rainy pauses for a moment, then continues walking. "Yes," she mutters, sullen once more.

The two continue on in moderate silence. Soon, they arrive back at the park—where it all began, where this second chapter started. And it was deserted, and they turn to enter.

"You really don't like them do you?" he asks when they've pass a small slide.

She doesn't meet his gaze, and doesn't reply immediately. "They've become more unbearable than I remember. And..." She wipes away dust that blew into her eye. "And I think I'd rather spend my time with other people."

He speaks that that sounds like a good idea.

They walk past a swing for small children.

Rainy sighs. She picks under her nails, notices the minuscule hole at the seam of the rolled end of her blouse. She muses aloud, "I'm starting to see why I had wished that I couldn't feel anything. It surely made everything easier, not feeling anything." She chokes out what was supposed to be a laugh but sounded much sadder.

And Pietro's neck snaps toward her. "You aren't think about going back like that, are you?" he accuses. His eyes grow wide. He hopes that she's being theatrical again. "You aren't, right? Do you really think that's a good idea because—I don't. You aren't wishing that you could take it back are you?"

"No, I'm not." She blinks, keeping her hands folded behind her back. She's taking in every word, churning it inside her head, trying to find a definite reasoning, an aspiration. "Because if I did, how would we have gotten on such good terms?" There's a hint of a small smile on her face.

 _"How would we have really met?"_

"You're saying that like you're happy about it." His tone didn't hold any enthusiasm.

In the playground, a swing-seat sways in the breeze. The wind blew a few fallen leaves from the nearby trees.

"Anyway, we should be getting home. It's late."

They had been crossing through the park as a shortcut when he remembers from days earlier. "Hey, Rain? What was that request you had—before we leave?"

At first, she had been ready to speak _"_ _nothing_ , _"_ but catches her tongue. "If you don't go after what you want, you'll never have it. If you don't ask, the answer is always no. If you don't step forward, you're always in the same place," she answers instead.

Confused, the other speaks that her comment doesn't make much sense.

The wind blew, raising her curls in the air. She wasn't looking at him and off to the side instead. "Do you remember when you said you liked me better now, and that I can rely on you? You said that you'll cancel your plans to come rescue me again." She glances at the ground before looking up at him now. "Is that true? I don't want you to have to keep having to come to my aid, to have to feel that way."

Illuminated windows dott the sides of the homes in Uptown Valley Apartment Complex not far off in the distance. It was where Rainy used to live before this whole campaign, before her life was turned on its head, before she met him.

And the teen did remember. Pietro closes his eyes, sighing again, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Don't be embarrassed," she advises, as if reading his mind. "I know you won't. That, one day we won't be seeing each other and you'll be living your life, probably traveling."

The growing darkness was catching up to them. Long shadows of play-set slides, jungle gyms, and swings stretch across the ground. Both Pietro's and Rainy's dark silhouettes were several feet long.

"Why're you making it sound like a tragedy? All I said is that you can rely on me or for a weekend once a month."

Sometimes she over-dramatizes.

"I know." She presses her knuckle to her bottom lip, bites. He watches and feels a tinge of guilt, like getting caught stealing a cookie, when her eyes rise to look up at him, her chin remaining low. "Say something nice," came the order from around her knuckle.

He made a sound of confusion.

"Say something nice. Compliment me."

And Pietro feels a swirling in the pit of his stomach alongside that tinge of guilt, a feeling that leaps into his throat and feels like it's about to choke him. _She wanted a compliment?!_

 _"You have no idea how you make me crazy!"_

 _"I want to know what your hair looks like in the morning."_

 _"The way you're so smart is just...!"_

 _"You're the fucking devil!"_

 _Tell me Tell me Tell me Tell me Tell me_

"Why?" He masks his lack of pleasant ideas by upturning his lip. "Is that all you wanted?"

Rainy begins walking up to him and his pulse was quickening. She looks upset, displeased, and doesn't trip as she steadily marches toward him—she doesn't trip like he had when trying to back away—and the wind is blowing and he could see her slanted eyes narrowing.

"No. A compliment from someone like you means absolutely nothing to me. But lately you've seemed to not be able to keep your word."

"There you go again—you're doing _it_ again," was his warning about her attitude. She continues stepping closer, regardless. She's silently daring him.

"I am a soft, cute girl, and I feel terribly hurt. I can barely stand."

The back of Pietro's shoe hit the lining metal fence. "Liar," he spat. "Are you trying to become a swindler too? Like that carnival creep?"

She was rising on her toes, meeting him toe to toe. He hopes his heating face couldn't be detected in the street lighting.

She responds, revealing, "something like that." Her eyes flutter and he swallows.

Then, catching him off guard, she threads the fingers of one of her hands with his, thrusting him away from the wire fence, then hooking her foot around his ankle, she spins them. When he stumbles for balance, she pulls, and then it's her back against the fence and Pietro's gritting his teeth. She's watching him so poised, so unfazed. He goes rigid. She tightens her hold on his hand at their side.

"It's the weekend now." She states and he listens, looking into her dark hazel eyes. "I ask for you to please be gentle with me tonight."

Pietro's eyes go wide.

He swallows. "I think you and I have different ideal of what is supposed to be going on here."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Idk if this helps or what you all think. I can continue if you want?**_


	2. Contemplation

_**A/N: In my itching to write** **more, here is a fun little chapter.** **But first, I HAVE to give a hell of thanks to sweetangellove101 for that passionate review!** **I read your words and, like, they literally made my week! This was the sweetest thing! I'm sorry but whenever I get reviews like this it still amazes me. I can't say thank you enough! I will certainly try to keep up with this if I can make people like you happy.**_

 _ **Thank you all too who reviewed. Thank you so, so much! In reply to EveWrites this actually came up in discussion and young Nicole Lyn (on Student Bodies tv show) fits the most as Rainy's face claim.**_

* * *

"Breathe in through your nose. ...and clear your mind. Everything is all about you...you are becoming one with the Earth..."

" _I could have everything I want back home_..."

Rainy cracks an eye open. "What was that?"

"I said that _oh Deane Shapiro is really going to clear my skin_."

"That's not what you said."

He hums. "C'mon you're not doing it right! Pay attention! You're the instructor." He doesn't look her in the eye and continues to hum as if meditating.

Rainy watches him and is unamused. "You're not even doing it right."

"Then how the heck do you do this? I've been sitting here for a _whole hour_!"

"We've been doing this for almost ten minutes—-"

"Same thing!"

"No it's—-" She breaks off in a sigh. He hadn't wanted to try the bird or ball exercise so this was the next technique listed. Then she asks, "do you want this or not?"

And Pietro groans, forces out an almost regretting " _yes_."

Rainy instructs him to sit up straight and cross his legs— _"I_ _can't!"_ —and focus on slowing his pulse and to _breath_ e _._ "Just listen to the surroundings," she repeats from the reading she glanced over earlier that morning. "Clear your mind and tune in with your senses..." She is in posture, eyes closed again, and she does her best to relax. Her palms are on the knees of her neon lilac pants, and her hair is pulled back by a purple headband-styled bandana. "Breathe..." Her chest puffs out, nose flaring.

A slight breeze blows. The sound of a car roars by. There's a loud rustle beside her in the grass.

Rainy's brow twitchs. "You should be able to feel the earth and nature..." She is trying to pay attention and relax. She can hear an insect buzz past. " _Relax_."

There's another loud rustle of a large mass scrambling beside her, a grunt.

"As you tune into your senses..."

The grass rustles. A thump hits the ground near her side.

Rainy's eyes snap open and her head whips around to her left to see Pietro lying on his back. "What are you doing so much?!"

"Don't yell at me! I was trying to do the leg cross thing that you said!"

She glares. He had only managed to partially complete to, crossing more at his ankles.

"It's a lot harder than it looks," he defends pitifully.

"No it's not." She scoffs and picks blades of grass from her thighs.

"Well _you_ don't have a big dick between your legs."

Her eyes narrowed more, turning to glare at him, before her hair flicking as she turns back forward. "I highly doubt it's really _big_."

Pietro grunts as he sits up and untangles his legs. "I beg to differ." He leans forward, places his hands on one knee. "But then wouldn't _you_ like to know?"

Rainy returns to placing her palms open and upward on her crossed knees. "Michelle says that any guy who brags about his size is trying to compensate. And it's a sure-fire way of weeding out the blockheads."

He gapes. "I have _never_ heard of that!"

She cracks a tiny grin. "I'd already supposed so. It's kept that way for a reason. Now..." Rainy inhales deeply, and keeps her eyes closed. She can hear the neighbors a house away, a car pulling out of the driveway, the squawking of a bird... _her stomach growling_.

Her brows crease.

There's a jet going by overhead, the grass prickling the skin of her thighs... _her stomach again_...a sly comment mumbled under breath of the other beside her...squirrels scampering...

Then her stomach gurgles again _loudly_. Her eyes snap open at hearing an " _um_..."

Pietro straightens and his hands fly up. "I didn't say anything!"

For a second it looks like she's glaring and the she's going to shout out, but she then ignores him and turns back forward and closes her eyes. Pietro is leaning back on his hands, his legs outstretched in front of him on the cut grass. There's a tabby cat along the top of the back fence.

Rainy sucks in her lips. Pietro watches.

He had come over to Rainy's backyard after a... _mishap_ with his sister Wanda. The decision had been impulsive, and honestly he had hoped that no one was home—there had been no car in the driveway. Rainy had met him at the front door with a hand over her nose and mouth. Apparently her parents weren't home right now and she had told him of the meditation texts she looked over because she remembered—he was surprised she remembered.

"You have a speech impediment?"

"Yeah something like that."

He can't really concentrate  
or focus

He had followed her inside with his hands inside his pockets. He also noticed she was wearing spandex leggings, and he tilts his head a little further to the side.

"Oh. My mother used to meditate," she tells, drinking a glass of orange juice

Pietro's fingers fidget

He had come over to relieve stress. And finding out that Meisha was out that day, and not going back over to Ronny's anymore, he had dared to come over. Pietro remembers suddenly that he has a small baggie still in his pants pocket. He wonders if Rainy has ever had it before.

But she's is turned to him, and his eyes go wide in question.

"Nothing." She shakes her head. She was growing irritated. "Do you want this or not?" She looks up hearing an airplane.

Pietro pauses and he watches her. He looks her over and squeezes his lips together. Her hair is tied in a ponytail. He swallows and a grumbled "yeah" comes out.

The cat along the fence jumps into the backyard.

"Do you really?" She turns her head to him then. And he blinks, eyes widening.

"Do I really what?"

Rainy is frowning now. "Do you really want _this_?" Her hands gesture back and forth between them. He seems short lately and uncooperative and she wonders.

Pietro's mouth stays open for a second as he hesitates. Then, in a grimace, asks, "we're still talking about this meditation mumbo jumbo, aren't we?"

There's a pause.

Rainy's face blanks. Pietro's grimace wavers into a tiny, nervous closed-lip grin. He can see the gears turning in her head and he holds back a snicker. And he knows that she is on the same track when she sucks in her lips again, murmuring something under her breath, and then looks way as her brows draw together. When she finally moves, it's to place a hand on her knee as she turns to stand. And his face falls.

"I'm leaving."

He gawks. "Wait—-what—-why?"

She doesn't say anything, and she's getting up to stand in one fluid, rapid movement, when his hand darts out to her. His grip finds purchase at the end of her white shirt.

"Rainy wait!"

She lets out a yelp as his fist flicks and tugs and she's pulled back to the grass. And for a second she's disoriented—and then she's growing _angry_.

Pietro holds his hands up in innocence again. "Wait...just...don't—-don't move." She begins to call out that she deserves a better explanation for this when he interrupts: "just _shh_! Stay still..."

And shockingly she obliges.

But it's probably because the unbinding grasp he has on her arm now, and not because he had impulsively _yanked_ her back or that he's practically staring her _in the face_.

Her tongue darts out and wets her lips again.

He swallows. "Don't move...alright?"

She doesn't answer.

She's keeping his gaze—maybe only dropping down for _one_ second—and when he leans in like they weren't already close enough, his hand reaching behind her head, and she holds her breath. She holds her breath and—

And nothing happens.

"Ok here." He sighs.

Rainy sees that he's setting a plump green caterpillar back on the grass. He had pulled it from the back of her shirt.

Nothing happens and her chest swells with what feels like ice and smoke.

Pietro brushes his hands off on his pants and puffs out his chest. "I probably should have left that actually..." He scratches his head—he's smirking nervously—his face catching a tinge of pink.

Rainy watches the caterpillar change crawling directions. She stands on her knees and pushes him down to the ground.

And of course he's stunned.

He narrowly misses squashing the bug with his palm by a hair.

"Don't do that again!"

He stares up at her, completely bewildered. "You almost made me kill him!"

Rainy scoffs as she stands and stalks away, and a snarky, _quite pleased_ , arrogant grin appears on his face as he scrambles to his feet to trail after her to go back in the house.

At least this meditation idea was over.

* * *

 ** _A/N: The reason I haven't been able to update much and why this is quite short and is because my teacher assigns us an essay every three days so this is something I'm putting out in-between essays. In fact, I should be working on one now..._**

 ** _I'm working on the next part now, but tell me how bad this one was, yeah?_**

 ** _*Meditation: Self-Regulation Strategy and Altered State of Consciousness by Deane H. Shapiro_**


	3. Chapter 1: Prev on Instigator

**_._**

* * *

Summer.

Mid-upper East coast, USA.

There's an empty land lot on the South side of town. Before, there had been flyers posted about a carnival there. Now, it's an open field of dirt.

On the television, puppets from Sesame Street sing about the color purple and the alphabet. On channel three, there's a blonde news anchor wearing a red ascot. The shade of lipstick doesn't flatter her.

It's summertime. The temperature increases, house bills rise because of air conditioning, humidity suffocates the atmosphere, and the ice-cream truck circles neighbourhoods at least twice a day.

An older man in a green button-down shirt puts up voting poster stands for the upcoming mayor election in his front yard. Three days later, they will be uprooted by junior high kids.

The local high schools are closed, summer break having started a month ago. The janitors had cleaned it the day after all students left, though there was still the small chance adolescents could sneak in. There always was if one could pick locks well enough.

Homes empty as families leave for vacation. Poolsides crowd from children and teens having too much free time, splashing and wetting the surrounding white concrete, the air smelling of chlorine.

Humid

Summer Break

Pietro wipes away the sweat collecting on his brow with the back of his hand. He sighs, just finishing raking the fallen leaves in a neat minuscule pile. The sun bares down relentlessly. His skin is turning red. As instructed by Marya, he wasn't to go above normal-human speed and to clean up the entire front and backyard. There were two more neat piles of leaves other than the one at his feet, one near the front door and the other near the side of the suburban house. A lawnmower he is to use sits quietly near the side gate. The wind blows, disturbing two of the piles.

Over a month ago, that said carnival had been in town, he can still remember, and there had been a girl too.

There had been a girl named Rainy who had gone to the carnival. It had been the second time she had gone, the first ending in disaster. Pietro had went with her this second time in hopes of righting a wrong.

And there had been a man there—a mutant, unknown, Pietro found out—who could take away any worry, any bother, any memory. That man had taken away large portions of Rainy's memory from two years prior, he took her feeling of emotion and physical sensory. Pietro had gone with her to get them back.

It had been in a dark room lit by candlelight

 _Rainy fell with a cry of pain  
_ Ripples like of water trailed from the man's fingertips to were they dug into Rainy's back and neck

In the front yard of his home, Pietro hurries and shoves one pile of leaves into a large trash bag before the wind could take it away. He wipes his brows again. His gray hair is tied back in a low ponytail and hidden beneath a green baseball cap.

The visit to that carnival had been over a month ago and cost around four hundred and seventeen dollars—this is plus both of their ticket prices and Pietro's popcorn. He wonders if Rainy had ever made up that money she snuck from her parents to pay to get her memories back.

Inside his suburban home, a glass of cold brandy sits on a tabletop in the living room—there's only enough for one gulp. His youngest sister is in the living room watching educational television and trying to braid the hair of her Barbie dolls. Wanda's chore is to wash the dishes and is supposed to get the forgotten glass near the couch. Marya, their aunt and caregiver isn't supposed to get back until later that night, and had asked Wanda specifically to take care of the glass she left in haste.

Wanda stands in the living room drying her hands on a dish towel and watching Bert and Ernie bicker on the television, absentmindedly. She picks up the glass without looking, and still watching the tv, she swirls it around. Without much motivation, she swallows what's left, and regrets it almost immediately. She looks from the empty glass to the tv...her finger runs the inside, gathering the last droplets.

Back in the front yard, Pietro fingers the music player on his hip and skips to the next song. He's re-raking the remaining pile of leaves to shove into the garbage bag when he looks up at another passing people walk by. He does a double take—not because there was another group of younger children spraying each other with water pistols—that's exactly why, actually. It's a tall, tan man in business attire and whom Pietro guesses to be his wife, smiling to who he guesses is a business partner. Pietro does a double take because that is the man he's seen on poster, one of the running candidates for the town's next mayor. He also recognizes Rainy, the candidate's daughter.

She catches a glimpse of him—for some reason in a _black_ shirt, long shorts, and hand raised again to wipe at his redden face—and she grins. It isn't much, but it's just enough in acknowledgment.

Back then, after returning from the carnival, Pietro had to carry her home and sneak through her unlocked bedroom window due to her unconscious. He hadn't seen her since. At least, until now.

He turns at a stray dog wondering onto the yard.

On another side of town, there's Ronny and Meisha—two schoolmates and fellow mutants. Ronny has gone to visit his grandparents out of town while the looming knowledge of his parents likely settling their inevitable divorce. The latter is packing to leave with her family to the coast in Tennessee. She worries about her own abilities, and keeps her red hair braided and in a restricting bun in fear that it would slip loose and wreck havoc on passersby because sometimes—she feels like she won't be able to control it soon.

There's another girl who dries her eyes after having a disagreement with her parents. Mckenzie, and Pietro's past infatuation, and once at the top of the school's social food chain. She was taken out of school in the last few months due to ridiculing and shaming increasing from being found with him, _alone_ , at a house party—and she had never _liked_ him either, and it was all in the heat of a moment and ill thinking. Mckenzie had been shunned, and practically _kicked out_ of the popular circle. Her parents now are considering going back on their decision and put her back in the previous high school. She disagrees, because there's nowhere for her to go, she has nothing but shame and humiliation back there.

Mckenzie's school social life was destroyed with very, very little for it to come back on—all done by Clarice Wilhelm, a spoiled blonde with a Superiority Complex. She's laying beside her mother wearing large sunglasses and both tanning. And to make the situation worse, Mckenzie had been her best friend, her right hand woman. Lately, she's been wondering if she's made a mistake about the way she treated Mckenzie. Clarice has an odd ability to have anyone wrapped around her finger whenever she wishes, and thinks that maybe she shouldn't have used her powers in the heat of anger and betrayal to direct them towards Mckenzie that way.

Clarice inspects her neon pink acrylic nail designs.

Cars roar down the hallway. Children are brought to parks to tire them out.

Ronny tears off a long strip of guaze with his teeth. He lies to his grandmothdr during dinner that he tripped outside and skinned himself on the sidewalk.

A gathering of birds simultaneously fly from the treetops as Pietro turns on the lawnmower.

It's been over a month since the events of the carnival. Everything is quiet, oddly ordinary despite so. Pietro wonders if it is going to last.

Rainy listens to her father talk about laws he is willing to pass, and she waits for the one about mutants. It isn't brought up and he just smiles, and her mother pulls her into her side. Rainy can smell the perfume to mask the incense and drugs burned at home; she forces a smile.

Rainy would rather fling herself off a balcony.

* * *

 _ **A/N: I don't think this was any good, but it's just something to get back into. I don't expect anyone to like or even care about this one anyways. And those of you who liked the ending of the first "chapter" then you might like the one after this one.**_

 _ **For those who may want to know about face claims: Wanda Maximoff -** **Saoirse Ronan.** **  
Sherry Addams - Holland Roden (Teen Wolf s1).  
Michelle White - ****Naomie Harris (The Tomorrow People).** **  
Rainy Capulet - Nicole Lyn (Student Bodies).  
** **Mckenzie Shabotz - Phoebe Cates.  
Ronny Di Gallo - Alan Ruck.  
Meisha Babinski - Christina Ricci.  
Clarice Wilhelm - Spencer Locke (Detention).**_


	4. Chapter 2: Undeclared Variables

**_A/N: I'm most likely going to be swamped with school work in these next few weeks and I wanted to post something._** ** _This first part may be a bit nsfw? [Disclaimer:]_** _I do not own anything connected with Marvel or Fox, just my OCs_ ** _]_**

* * *

Pietro shuts his eyes, allows his head to fall back, and moans. As the pressure quickly increases, his eyes squeeze shut, his bottom lip being bitten raw between his teeth. There's a open palm on his knee...and another one that has a tight hold around his most sensitive feature and gives him a good _squeeze_ , forcing a sharp, shuttered gasp from him. He feels a moist, warm slide up the length, and then engulf him in a tight, wet embrace. His eyes fly open. He doesn't mean for those few _choice_ words and sounds to bubble up from his throat then, but it just felt _so damn_ —

He wasn't even sure how he got here. It's dimly lit, he could make about his surroundings through his lustful haze. A vary of colored lights pulsed along the walls.

A flick of a wrist is given and he jolts; there's a tightness against his sensitive tip specifically and he sits straight up. A short cry slips out, tangled around another moan and he _feels_ more hears another empty swallow that gives a tempting squeeze.

He's sweating too—or, at least he _thinks_ so. He isn't quite sure of it all, actually; all of this seems off, feels a bit out of place.

Chest heaving in excitement, he looks down hearing another audible swallow; his legs are spread open at the edge of the bed, a foreign hand running up his inner thigh and—his pants aren't on, probably pooled around his ankles, or thrown somewhere in haste. He clears his throat in attention and the head between his legs bombs once, lifts. He's ready to question the actions that has led to this and why—

He looks down, opens his mouth to speak, and meets Rainy's smiling face. He's taken aback; his chest clenches and not in the more preferred, pleasurable way. For a second he becomes completely shocked and utterly terrified and _freezes_. He jolts back against the edge of the bed.

He isn't steady as he talks either. "Rainy!? What—-how—-what happ—-"

She cuts him off with a tug and another grin, stroking him with a tight fist before lowering her head again. And then he's engulfed in that slick compression of her full lips and this whole scenario feels like a phantom of a memory. Because this felt... _different_.

 _What was happening_?

A free hand of his unclenches from his t-shirt to take hold of the dark hair below him. His his eyes squeeze shut again on reflex but this time he grimaces. "Rainy..." He wants to get her attention because there's _so many questions_ making it way through his head. Why is she doing this? How did she get here? How did this happen? Were they intoxicated; and where were they? More importantly, _why was she doing this_?

Had he asked that already?

He fists her large dark curls, unintentionally guiding her up and down and back again. "Rainy," it mixes with a strained groan, his grimace appearing painful. "Rainy~ st-sto-op, stop..." There is another deep swallow, another twist of her hands where her mouth stops. And when she'll drag her lips back, her teeth grating up to the tip.

This is like the phantom of a memory

When he looks back down, her hair has turned into a more unkempt, bushy head of darker waves. Pietro isn't sure she had been wearing that red bandana in her hair either...

The room pulses and the fuzzy lights swirl around the room—gold, fuchsia, cyan, purple, green, insipid white. A detaching suction noise comes from below and he shutters violently.

Pietro watches as she lifts her head again—

"Why?" she retorts, but it isn't Rainy. "I thought you _liked_ being treated like a hunk, _dipstick_."

Pietro can only watch in confused shock as Mckenzie has fabricated into her place, moistens her pink lips with her tongue before flicking kitten licks to his tip and giving one of her bratty smiles. And once more, his words are hard to form.

The last he's heard of Mckenzie, she had transferred to another school—but that too had been a rumor.

"...Kenzie...?"

She runs her left hand along his inner thighs, gathering heat to his nether region. "Relax, cutie," she slurs drunkly, her tongue sliding up the expanse length of his flesh, flicking out at the sensitive tip. Another smirk flashes. She's wearing large hooped earrings and he can smell the remnants of watermelon lipgloss. Her grip around him tightens and twists before working up a quick pace that forces his breathing to shallow and him fall back on his elbows. His eyes flutter close again, brows furrowing and confused. Her ministrations speed up until Pietro found the pressure rapidly building in his core and he releases a loud, needing groan. The last time this had happened was the last time he and Mckenzie had been close, during that house party, he remembers. But she had hatred him afterwards and avoided him at all costs.

He is totally baffled, yes, but this...her...this was _just too_...

Pietro's eyes opens to his bed pillow on his left, a groan already leaving his mouth as he wakes. He has to lie there for a minute or so when it hits him that it had all—luckily—been a dream. The early rays of sunlight filter in through his high windows. His blankets are disheveled, he's lying on his back cornerwise, and one hand in a loose fist atop his bare chest.

It had all been a dream

He drags a hand down his face, and released a groan. _What kind of odd dream had that been?_ Only when he drops his hand back to his mattress does he notice from the corner of his eye, out of all people _his sister_ standing no more than two feet from his bed, jaw hanging open and eyes large. She continues staring at him with a look he can't really read but which isn't a pleasant one, he is certain.

And Pietro is _mortified_.

Wanda shrieks, calling him _disgusting_ , _gross_ , and any other offense she could manage to think of in shock as she steps forward and _shoves_ him off the far end of his bed. And he's babbling out how she _needs to learn to knock_ while hurrying to wrap his comforter around his waist and stand without tripping, calling out _what she wouldn't see if she just minded her own business_. He bunches most of the comforter in front of his rigid crotch.

By the time he's standing, having catching his feet in the blanket folds twice, Wanda is already rushing back up the basement stairs. He curses after her in Serbian, calling her a pervert, a peeping tom.

Before the door slams close, she hollers about not missing the school bus.

He ignores her, blowing a bit of hair out of his face.

The bedside alarm goes off. He speeds over with the blankets still around his waist and switches it off.

Pietro's face is turning pink and his ears are beet red. He runs a hand through his hair. He had forgotten that it was Monday and therefore school to resume.

He makes his way up the stairs and _locks_ his door this time. His bedsprings give the tiniest of protests as he plops back down on the edge. He sighs. The school bus should be coming in twenty more minutes; Wanda had likely already eaten and ready to leave, their youngest sister at her school elementary school, and Marya at one of her two jobs since the early hours of this morning.

Pietro doesn't try to fix his bed hair. His bedside clock reads he now has nineteen minutes. The morning light dances in golden white. He peers under the blankets wrapped around his waist. He can do a lot in nineteen minutes and still make it on time...

 ** _. . .  
_** ** _. . ._**

The time is too early in the morning for comfort, and somewhere in late summer.

There are three high schools in the county, one on the North, East, and West side each. There's also seven McDonalds, eleven car washes, two malls, and a skate park and hokey rink that opens for public sometimes in winter whenever the owners feel up to it. The high school on the West side of town is where this takes place—in the line of traffic to the school is where Meisha bounces her knee nervously. She's looking out the car window and doesn't see her father studying her.

"You look nice today." He has been debating how to start, whether to start a greeting this morning.

She grumbles out a thanks, tightens her folded arms across her chest.

He pauses, tries again. "How're you feeling?"

"Fine." Her response is short.

He thumps his palm against the wheel. A vehicle nearby honks. Her father has a mustache that Pietro has told reminds him of a small brown broom.

"You seem rather excited to go back to school."

"Dad," her head swivels around. "I'm _excited_? Why would anyone be _excited_ for school?" And her eyes roll.

"Because you've been antsy all morning. And ever since we returned from vacation. You're never like this."

Meisha gives an exaggerated groan and rolls her eyes back to the window. He reaches over to fix a bobby pin that hangs lose from under her braided bun.

"I'm not excited for school. I'm just..." She scratches at a chipping food stain left from breakfast.

 _I'm ready to get this over with_

 _That I don't want to be late and risk loosing this place in this new group of people_

 _That I want to get there so I can meet my friends, see Ronny and—_

"Just?"

"Nothing." And she sighs.

She hears the heavy sigh he exhales through his nose and she has a sudden urge to question if he was ever going to shake that broom under his nose.

"What do you mean _nothing_...?"

"It's nothing, Dad." She flops against the seat as the traffic crawls forward. "I just...want to get to my friends. That's all."

He watches her begin to chip at the nail polish on her thumb. His wife had pointed out once over vacation about their daughter's sudden peaked interest in girly accessories. Her father shifts in his seat, resting an arm on the steering wheel.

"Say, how are those friends of yours? You haven't spoken about them at all much. They," he squints, "they haven't done anything...you know..." And he earns an almost shocked look from her. "They aren't being jerks, are they?" he saves himself.

"Not more than usual," she mutters. "And not those friends."

Of course he's shocked—she should have known.

"I just started talking to them and we hung out a bit over summer break, remember? That's why I can't be late."

"Do you really think it's that import—-"

"Yes it's that important, Dad. These people are...popular. Quite popular..." She sticks her head out the window to see ahead, and sees that the traffic has come to a standstill. "And I can't mess this up."

Her father nods. Popularity is almost like a hierarchy in a business. He remembers when his daughter has sat alone and crying because of the teasing and the self hating she harbored from that.

"Do you still talk to those guy friends you have? The other... _mutants_?"

She shakes her head. Peeking her head back out the window, she sees a few others exiting cars to get to the sidewalk—that was a pretty good idea. She unbuckles her seatbelt, tells that she is going to follow suite, given they were already along the side of the school. "It's...uh, it's complicated," she answers.

 ** _. . .  
_** ** _. . ._**

Wanda shuffles her backpack on her shoulder, and she shutters. She had been relieved, actually, when her brother hadn't rode the bus too that morning—she knew that he never would, but still. She needed time until she could look at him again...

She didn't think she could _ever_ look at him the same again...

Wanda shutters again.

Pushing the red hood of her jacket back a little, she moves further through the mob of students in the hall. It has just been the end of summer break and she hadn't been able to get out much, having to babysit her younger sister. She couldn't count how many times she's blown Michelle off for broken plans until the girl too had left to visit family—part of Wanda's reasoning for never meeting up had been honest excuses, the other because of her poor trusting in others. Now, Wanda prays that she would be forgiven. And thus, as she approaches the room for her first class, she hears someone call her name. Michelle pushes off from the wall. Janae, another friend of Michelle's is at her side. Michelle motions Wanda closer, and of course she obeys.

"We were just talking about you," Michelle smiles and Wanda's eyes grow wide. Then, the girl switches her stance, crossing her arms and her mouth turns up. "What happened to you? We never hooked up. I thought you were one of us."

Wanda swallows, forces a grin. "Y-you know, I had been busy...I—-"

Janae mimics Michelle's stance. Though neither appeared menacing or threatening, it was confrontation and Wanda did not do well with confrontation.

"Yeah, you said you had to babysit," Wanda is interrupted. "And that your mom is strict..." Michelle looks Wanda over. "You aren't wearing that bracelet I gave you." She sounds slightly hurt, so Wanda stutters out an excuse.

"I—uh—I-I lost it. My brother stole it."

"I didn't know you had a brother." It's Janae who speaks up this time. She has golden studs in her ears that Wanda focuses on instead of her eyes.

"I..." Wanda licks her lips. "Uh..."

It was an agreement between the twins that they wouldn't verbally tell about their relation, unless students found out themselves via role call. Neither spoke about it, arrived and left school separately, and mingled with separate groups. It wasn't that either was embarrassed of the other—

"Who's your brother? Is he cute?" Janae smiles.

"Why haven't we met him?" Michelle lifts a shoulder, grinning cheekily. "Is he younger?"

"Um...so-something like that..."

Michelle snaps her fingers. "What's your last name again?" Then Wanda asks _"why"_ so Michelle answers, "because we wanna see if we know him."

Wanda's eyes are still wide and she looks, worried, between the two. She doesn't respond at first, and only does after some coaxing, and then "Ma-Maximoff," is stuttered out. But she is quick to add that she can handle herself, that she is nothing like her brother, that she can be _cool_ on her own. This makes Michelle smirk, raising an index finger under her chin.

Janae smacks the back of her palm on Michelle's bicep. "We don't know anyone with that name do we?"

"No. I can't think of anyone with that last name," Michelle shakes her head, buoyant afro sightly bouncing. She's wearing a calico patterned scarf, one end hanging over her shoulder.

It isn't that either twin is embarrassed about the other, but many in this school would twist their words and make them be.

"Say, Red, I kinda like you a bit more each time." _Red_ is the nickname Michelle gave to the mutant. She adjusts her arms under her chest. "Do you think your mom will let you go out this Thursday?" And Wanda asks, still quite worried, _"why thursday? That's a school night."_ Michelle coats her to calm. "Janae, me, and a few others have plans to go out to this concert that's going down that night. Thursday's the last day. _But_ ," a finger goes up, "we have to know if you're down...or _not_."

Wanda hates confrontation. A peacekeeper, she would rather avoid anything type of confrontation, tension, or interrogation if she could. It hadn't ever led to anything good; it has never led to anything good. The memory of the school restroom mirror shattering flashes across her mind and she hopes that luck isn't real.

"I'm down." It's spoken rather quickly and slightly unsure.

But Janae is smiling like a coyote now. "Ok then...you see that bimbette near the lockers? The one putting on lipstick like she's some important pop idol? Pull a little _prank_ on her with... _this_." She holds out a packaged condom. And of course the other girl is quite flustered and questioning. "Don't worry. See? It's still closed. But those chicks are _very_ modest. The one with the lipstick acts like she's the second coming of The Virgin Mary. A her pulling something like this out of her purse," Janae motions what's resting on the ground near the girl's shoe, "is sure to create a bit of a ruckus in their little "good girl" rep."

Michelle looks from Wanda and her friend.

Janae extends her hand. "You in, right?"

Silence.

"Red...?" Michelle didn't sound very certain either.

But she sucks in a breath, squares her shoulders, and musters the most confident, "I'm in," she could.

Janae smiles. Michelle doesn't.

The first bell, signaling for students to begin walking to class is about to ring, Michelle tells. Janae places the wrapped condom in Wanda's hand. "And don't forget: this Thursday."

But Wanda begins to stammer an excuse, one about her younger sister. Thus, Michelle interjects, "can't your brother just watch her?"

And Wanda pauses. When she speaks, her voice is very steady, almost serious. "No. No he can't. Not by himself." She glances in the direction of the girls who are maybe three years younger. She bumps into the one applying lipstick, her aim scrawling a thick red line across her cheek, and Wanda spills apologies. The two dark girls could see the condom fall from Wanda's grasp and into the girl's purse, the one with lipstick freezing in shock and her friends turning, aggressively accusing.

Michelle looks to her friend. She thinks that, maybe, she should have interjected.

Wanda is quite obviously terrified. One of the girls who has her brown hair in a short cut extends her finger to Wanda's shirt aggressively. There's a cup in her other hand, Wanda sees; the first is freaking out about the lipstick streak across her cheek.

THE FIRST STEP

Michelle and Janae hear abrupt shrieking, seeing the girl's tops bathed in watery pulp, and Wanda hurrying away.

 ** _. . .  
_** ** _. . ._**

It's hours later that Sherry emerges from math class with a grin on her face. The reason: she and her newest friend were getting along just well. That, and the fact that Rainy was too.

Rainy...

Sherry was glad that her friend claims to be feeling better from that sickness she's had since forever, but...Sherry can't deny that something seems _off_ about her friend. Even as she sees the other stopped in the hall by two whom Sherry has seen in the gym—one of them that guy, Troy—she sees that there's something different about her. Maybe it was the summer—as it usually is—maybe she actually _enjoyed_ the break this time, because there's a little something in her walk, the way she a grin flickers and dies, of how she seems to actually get _annoyed_ as the two boys spoke.

Sherry is too far to hear Rainy's reply, but after her second response the boys' stances are no longer lax. Rainy's brows nit together and she crosses her arms. The second boy becomes defensive. Rainy pops her hip, gives some further remark. Sherry has been fixing an earring; Rainy walks away then.

Sherry is far off down the hall, so she doesn't see everything either. She doesn't quite see Rainy's gaze look beyond the boys in front of her. Sherry doesn't see that through passing others, Pietro falter in, headphones still on, alone in the hallway. The crowd parts in time for Sherry to see Troy lean in Rainy's space before she comments something that wipes away his predatory smirk. Rainy had met Pietro's heartily gaze, but was then interrupted by a quadruplet of loud blondes. When the group pass, he's already gone.

* * *

Sprightly, vibrant pompoms rustle and are thrown in the air. The school's cheerleading squad is a total of fourteen girls and two guys.

One is thrown in the air and is barely caught in time.

Their performance ends and the entire gym is forced to applaud. The performance is seconds over two minutes and is quite sorry quality in Pietro's opinion. Those beside him on the bleachers are clapping enthusiastically. He pulls his beanie hat further over his eyebrows and doesn't do a damn thing.

It is a pep rally this time, rather than a school-wide PSA like last year. On the floor, a dean takes the microphone and announces the next performance will be from the boys basketball team.

Needless to say, that was executed poorly as well.

Music blares from the speakers and then the school's mascot comes running out, tossing candy to the crowd. Beads are thrown out next. Beside him, Ronny mirrors his Pietro's bored expression. There are those around them who are sheering enthusiastically and others who are exchanging drugs behind them. Pietro's knee bounces, very tempted to turn around and make a purchase—lately it's been _so hard_ for him to concentrate, and he isn't sure exactly when or why it started, but he is starting to think that it was around the beginning of summer when he had seen Rainy and her parents walk past his front yard. He tosses his head back, sighs, and Ronny raises an eyebrow. He asks what the matter was. Pietro tells that he hadn't been able to pull off that second prank he had been saving up for, and watches, disappointed, that he hadn't remembered to bleach the dean's clothes.

Ronny rolls his shoulders. "Say, have you talked to Meisha? I haven't seen her since...is she okay?"

Pietro gives a nonchalant shrug. He hasn't, he tells. "She's probably with _those_ people again, you know those..." He waves a hand in a general direction. "Yeah."

Far off near the top of the bleachers, Ronny could _just_ make out the red of her hair. She's turned away, in a conversation with a few other girls, and— _laughing!_

Meisha has been purposely distancing herself from them since the week prior to Spirit Week last school year. Ronny thinks that it is because of their teasing. He hopes that it wasn't because of the teasing.

Ronny's shoulders slump. "You sure she's okay?"

"I dunno."

It had been her decision to reach out and distance herself from them, and it had been her decision to rarely pick up the phone all that summer. Ronny knew this, and he knew that Pietro did too.

Ronny takes on a look of worry.

On the inside-basketball court below, another administrator is reminding students that they could always come to the clinic for health or to vent. The nurse is an older woman with whiting hair and becomes frantic at the tiniest gash. She is usually visited because the clinic is a placeholder for medication.

Ronny barks a dry laugh at the mention of using the nurses as a makeshift psychiatrist office. Pietro smirks.

 _'As if they could help people like them.'_

Silently, Ronny worries. The three of them had been together for as far back as he could remember; since the year prior to middle school. For Pietro, a few years after his family's arrival to America. Though Ronny is more pessimistic, he had made the exception for this—they were the only mutants (minus Wanda who was always a loner) and he had thought, _hoped_ that they would stay together.

The school's mascot is standing off to the side of the bleachers and by the doors. Ronny taps Pietro's shoulder when he sees someone walk in, hood of a red jacket pulled up and approach the costume. Curious, both watch the person finger the costume to bend down as if to whisper something, and were stunned when the costume's head is swiped off, and the perpetrator sped back out the door. There were a few others who had also seen, who were whooping laughs, and at least one administrator. And of course, the remaining costume of the mascot fled after the thief.

The school dean who currently has the mic taps the top, and announces that there had been an inconvenience and the pep rally would have to be put on hold.

Across the court, Janae is laughing hysterically. She had been the one who concocted and initiated this second "prank," which Michelle is beginning to think is a unnecessary faux hazing process. Both she and Rainy watch Janae bent over her knees, their smiles fading. Michelle, being in the middle, smacks the other on the shoulder.

"What did you tell that girl?!"

Janae sits up, her mood changing at Michelle's hit. "Ow! What was that for? That hurt, y'know!"

"What did you tell Red?" Michelle is visibly growing upset.

Janae looks her up and down, almost sneering. "Calm down, Shell. I just told her a lil' joke. That's all. She said she was cool with it. Besides, I wanna see how tough she is."

Michelle did admit that it had been hilarious watching the headless mascot run out the double doors, the human head sticking out from the plush body. But now wasn't the time.

"Tell her _what_? This isn't some secret group! We didn't ever do stuff like this." Michelle's long fingernails are glossed over with a clear overcoat that is pointing at Janae. "That was over the top. You're gonna make her get life for this. Don't keep messing with her like this, Janae. Leave her alone."

From Rainy's position, she couldn't see Michelle's expression but she clearly saw Janae's change completely to where she is almost glowering at the other. There had never been much animosity between the two, and they were usually around one another—Janae is the more rambunctious one and Michelle the more reserved. In the bleachers, there are a people clambering to the exit to hurry after, and those who are readying to leave because the bell will sound.

"No. You gonna _stop_ me?" And Rainy watches Janae's lips set and her eyes steel. "She doesn't belong to you, Shell. And it's funny to watch her!"

Judging by Michelle's silence, Rainy thinks she is either surprised or mirroring Janae's look.

* * *

 ** _A/N: I was going to add the last part to another chapter but it was short. Please forgive me for the long wait, again I'm SO SORRY. Also, I know this isn't the best chapter_** ** _so the next one will be coming very soon. But this is still the beginning of this and it won't be long for Pietro/Rainy interaction especially. I'm currently working on the next chapter and a quick sequel to a x-men apocalypse-verse Pietro/Rainy short story. Feel free to shout at me and on tumblr._**


	5. Chapter 3: Meisha Monster

**_A/N: The short first part is a flashback_**

* * *

When Rainy awoke the night of returning from the carnival, the sun had been a summery gold bathing her bedroom walls. Her right cheek was pressed into floral patterns of her uneven bed comforter. The branch that had always been in front of her window was gone. And it had been before the summer break.

She had been woken by sounds elsewhere in the house per usual...of metal clanging, the conversing of the television...someone on the telephone passing by her closed bedroom door...the smell of food coming from in the kitchen...

Rainy had been lying on her stomach, and couldn't remember exactly when she must have turned in her sleep. She's still wearing her sweater from yesterday, she sees, and her shoes while still in bed. Her fingers splay out, inching over the edge of her bed, arm stretching, and brushes across her white bedsheets—

She bolted upright by her elbows. Rainy brushed her hand across her sheets again...again, and again. She grabbed it in her fists, and for extra measure brings it to her face where she inhaled deeply. Her dark hair is pressed flat on the side she had been sleeping on. Her blanket is soft against her nose and cheeks, she felt, and pressed her face into it completely as the realization hit: _She felt_. There's a bubbling _something_ coming up inside her, but she didn't want to get her hopes up. She touched her polyester jacket, her denim jeans, ran her hands through her dark curls, over her face and winced at a slight bruise on her cheekbone.

And then she grinned, grinned widely. She then palmed her sheets, rubbed her face into her pillowcase, and then her shirt, her dirtied jeans again, her lamp on her side table, the worn novel there, wigged her toes inside her shoes.

 _She felt_

A choked sound that could pass as a bark of laughter came out.

 _Oh god!_

Something light and joyful bloomed from her chest and she doesn't know exactly what to do with it. She knew that her parents would likely come rushing in if she were to let out the louder jubilant noise that scraped up her throat. A little shout did escape her though.

And she did jump from bed after kicking off her hot shoes, feeling the a/c cool her toes; she ran her hands down her face, through her hair, felt a sting at her fingers getting caught, felt her eyes—poked herself in the eye—over her lips, around her teeth, the wristband from the carnival still around her wrist—

She froze. Written in marker, Rainy could make out Halil's signature and something branding her as a returning customer. She could remember _everything_ : the confrontation with the conman, stealing her parents' money as a payment— _stealing her parents' money!_ —and the talk with Pietro and what brought about it all, and all up until she spoke for the first time in years about what had happened in her family and why she visited the conman in the first place. Everything after that, nothing.

Rainy fingered the paper wristband, thinking it too tight for her liking. She looked it over, and a curl falling in her eye as she tilted her head. Tucking it behind an ear, she took another glance around her bedroom, an appointed turn toward her bedroom window. Her balance is off when she stood. Approaching closer, she saw that the window had been left open an inch above the windowsill, just enough for her to curl her fingers under.

The humid summer air wrapped around her fingers before merging with the a/c from inside her room. Rainy inhaled, picking a hint of freshly cut grass—her sense of smell hasn't changed—and she curled her fingers around the bottom of the open window to force it up. It takes multiple tries—god knows how weak her muscles are now; in fact, she started to feel sore all over as the minutes went by—but she soon managed to push the window open a few more inches to squeeze her head out and saw the large, broken branch that usually could be seen was now on the ground, a branch much too large for a bird or small animal to have broken.

The summer air blew against her face. Inhaling again, she _feels_ her face stretch, pulling into what she couldn't see but is actually a small smile.

 _She felt_

FEELING

EMOTION

She wiggled her head from the window and closed it in time that there was a knock at her door. She gave permission to enter. She hadn't any expectations, but there was still a tiny lurch in her throat when she saw her father peek out from behind the door. He was undoing his tie as he spoke, telling something about needing to go pick up a few things and asking if she would like to go for ice-cream.

Rainy pursed her lips. The last time she could remember, she hadn't harbored the most _endearing_ emotions for her father...but her throat _was_ dry...

Absentmindedly and some time later while they were out, her father brought his hand down on the back of her neck in an endearing pat, pulling it away in alarm at specks of blood from the small open wound there.

* * *

The last time Sherry saw Meisha was the week after everyone returned for the new school year. It was the weekend of the second week, and Meisha had been sporting poorly fashioned ponytails and obnoxiously red blush. The two had been playing Black Jack and Truth Or Dare simultaneously; it was a sleepover Sherry initiated and correlated. Rainy had been there too.

And Meisha had been glaring, Sherry thought she saw, or at least Meisha had been watching intently for a while.

Sherry's father had been off for a business trip and her mother eagerly urged her daughter to go ahead and invite her new friend over. And by the time Meisha arrived, the kitchen counters were filled with neatly prepared appetizers and bags of snacks. The visit had gone well even though Meisha didn't talk much in the beginning, and by the time Rainy arrived, the two were already full off of Cheetos and apples with peanut butter. Sherry remembers because Rainy's eyes lit up like she'd never had Cheetos and lemonade before.

Rainy had said that her grandmother's iced lemonade tea will always be the best, however. Meisha found it odd for tea to be iced and mixed with lemonade. Rainy insisted it is worth trying.

That hadn't been what caught Sherry's attention, though.

The night had gone well. After eating more, they played several rounds of board games—which were cut short when Sherry proposed the idea of putting on a movie, and then performing a "makeover." It had been during a game of cards, when the topic of changing clothes came up and Meisha's hesitation and reticence—reason, without blurting, her self-consciousness about her small bra size and freckles.

Sherry had good intentions, really, and she hadn't meant to scare the young mutant when she grabbed her by the shoulders, the strawberry blonde's eyes already shining at the start of ideas, and pleaded to give Meisha a makeover "because it's never a bad idea!" She has a box of makeup she still unused and this was the perfect opportunity to finally open it. "Besides," Sherry had said. "You have very pretty eyes and I think I have the shade of eyeshadow to make them _pop_!"

Meisha denied that her eyes are anything pleasant. And she had been hesitant, but eventually agreed to the idea. They were just not to touch her hair, though.

"I can't believe you've never used makeup before! It's a godsend!"

"I _have_ used it before. I just... I just don't have any at home. My mom is the one who uses it at home, though."

Sherry had cracked an excited, toothy smile, meaning pink lipstick and concealer on the other girl. She made a comment about being able to add a little sparkle to Rainy too if she wanted, Rainy who hadn't spoken a word about being in the mock makeover project. Though, like most things, Rainy had gone along with it.

She had been the one to point out that the eyeshadow had been applied too strongly, and that Sherry hadn't matched the colors with Rainy's skin tone very well.

The end results were terrible, honestly, but that was the fun of it because it was _intended_. Blush was applied like that of a babydoll's, but the sparkling lipgloss, eyeshadow and mascara all were applied neatly. The girls styled each other's hair in whacky ways, their makeup satisfying despite their hair and powder blush. Meisha was steered in front of Sherry's mirror and the redhead pointed to the mutant in the mirror, telling how pretty she is "with your cute little nose, and I wish I had freckles like you! And I'm really jealous of your eye color too."

Rainy remained silent, observing the young mutant's shoulders beginning to lift. Meisha also learned how to properly apply eyeliner that night. And both other girls quite _enjoyed_ giving _Sherry_ a horrific "makeover."

The goal of the makeover had been met, as Meisha was smiling after. Rainy too, which Sherry wasted no time to point out, amazed.

It was while giving each other pedicures that confidential information began pouring out. It had been after Sherry dared each to reveal one secret fact about themselves, and while Sherry told that she heard from another at school that after Wanda Maximoff ran through the halls after stealing the head of the school mascot by a dare, Wanda had made a shoe fly.

"Well," Sherry elaborated, "the senior wearing the costume—I forget his name at the moment—had thrown his costume foot at her to try and get her to stop, but she _deflected_ it, he said, by using some type of _red mist_." She capped the bottle of lime green nail polish, and then blew on Rainy's hand to dry. "I mean, what do you guys think? Kinda sounds absurd to me."

Rainy pursed her lips.

"I dunno. It...it doesn't sound _that_ odd...I mean, to me." Meisha keeps her hands in the air for them to dry and to avoid smearing Rainy and Sherry's work. Her fingers and toenails are painted a plum purple, Sherry's a bright pink; Rainy had made a smartass comment about Sherry finally getting their colors correct.

Sherry thinks it over, then gasps. " _Unless_...! You're right, Meisha, but— _unless_ she's one of those _mutants_!"

Rainy's brows drew together as she frowns in disbelief. "Mutants...?"

"Yeah! That's the only explanation for it!" Sherry sounds far too excited about this.

The girl before her didn't, however. "The senior in that costume is also known for using shrooms. Do you _really_ think we can take _his_ word?" Rainy still holds that relaxed, impassive look often that she is working on refining.

Sherry's excitement died down. "Yeah, you're probably right."

Then they're quiet. "Billie Jean" fades out then the radio station starts a track by Cyndi Lauder, and Meisha blurts that she has a friend who likes this song. Rainy rests her chin on a bent knee, watching Sherry concentrate, able to feel the brush across her nails and cuticles. Meisha watches both of them. At the end of the current song playing on the stereo, the silence is broken by the optimistic strawberry blonde.

"Say, Meisha. You spoke like you knew that Wanda girl. Have you guys ever talked?"

Rainy observes the other and can tell that Meisha's nervous.

"Not-not exactly... I don't really know her. We never really talked _much_..." It is a partial lie. "I'm, uh, _friends_ with her brother."

"She has a brother?! Who is he? Is he cute? He's not psycho like his sister, is he...?"

"He's...uh...he's that guy, that... _one_ who..." She can't find her words, or rather the ones she could bring herself to speak. She settles on flatly blurting, "Peter. His name's Peter."

Sherry thinks it over. "...No, I don't think I know a Peter," she thinks aloud. "What's his last name?"

"Maximoff."

Sherry pokes out her bottom lip. No one sees Rainy's eyes widen for a split second. "Nope. Can't say I do. Is he new, like, did he transfer?"

"...He's that one guy that has gray hair."

Sherry jolted, snapping her fingers as the memory of a face matched up with the name. She apologized to Rainy for messing up on her middle nail, and reaches for the polish remover. Sherry remembered now, she tells, but couldn't before because two only talked a handful of times and not enough for her to remember his name like that. She spoke this aloud, but her words come to a halt, Sherry's eyes widening as she then remembers like a blow to the head that he had been the one she had seen climbing out of Rainy's living room window. Sherry had almost spoke this too, luckily catching herself after " _he's the one I saw climbing_ —-" and reading the hints of panic in Rainy's widened stare. She doesn't meet Sherry's eyes.

Rainy doesn't think that Meisha noticed—she hadn't, and is watching a muted commercial about perfume. The cream-skinned woman on screen fell into the arms of a handsome man, the scene fading to the product as they lean in to kiss.

Sherry glanced up, finishing wiping the polish from Rainy's finger. "Do _you_ like anyone, Meisha?" Sherry was asked what had initiated the question. She answered, "nothing really. But you looked like you were sold on that perfume."

Meisha admitted that she's been seeing the commercial increasingly and had been considering purchasing it. Of course, this lead to inadvertently revealing that she _did_ possess a bit of favoritism for a specific _somebody_ at their school. And Sherry was immediately intrigued, as she _loved_ love. Rainy instructed her to not mess up her nails again.

" _Ohhh_! Who is he? Who's the special guy?"

Meisha stammered. "He's not really _special_. I mean... It's not like that..."

The other smiles widely. "But...you like him? Your brain gets all fuzzy around him, doesn't it?" Sherry asks, and Meisha gave a small nod. "And you only like to focus on him?"

Another nod.

Rainy looked over at the mutant now.

"Your stomach feels all fluttery, almost like a tickle? Like butterflies?"

Meisha denied, told that it's more like a tightness in her upper chest.

"You sure it's not your bra?" asked Rainy.

Sherry shushed her. Turning back to the other redhead, she couldn't fight the grin that grew. "Mimi, I think you might have a have a crush."

But she's met with refusal. "No! It's not like that! I... He's stupid! He's a dork and a nerd and he isn't even that _cute_ —-and he's-he's so _dumb_! We're just friends, and I—-"

"Aren't all guys?" Sherry chuckled.

There's a sitcom that begun playing on the television screen. A man and woman walk through the doors of a restaurant, and though the volume was turned low, it was obvious that they were arguing.

"So...who is the special guy?" Sherry smiled.

Meisha inspected her drying nails. "...He's...nobody. It's nobody. Never mind it." She thought about the last time she spoke to him, to Peter telling him that she hadn't been in the mood to prank. Ironically, it had been the day before Wanda's little feat with the mascot. She vaguely remembered that it had been after an argument involving his sister.

Sometime toward the end of that night, Sherry had ran a hand from Meisha's freckled shoulder to her tan elbow. She had to speak up more, Meisha had been told, to say what is on her mind more because she is so quiet and Sherry's mother had always told her daughter that being that way is dangerous for a woman.

So, Meisha decided to try it.

 _"NO!"_

And now in the doorway of her home, glaring up at the look of startle on the face of Pietro Maximoff's face is the perfect time. Meisha's grip on the side of the wooden front door tightens. "I mean...Pete, I can't."

His his hands fall to his sides, asking, "why not? You've never said no before." Then, "what? You a chicken now?" he chuckles dryly, masking his disappointment with a hand under his nose. He's hiding his hair under a beanie and wearing a light blue t-shirt that has the logo of Pac-man in the top corner.

"That's the thing." Meisha rubs her arm. "I just...I just don't feel comfortable with doing that anymore." She isn't surprised to see his lips part a bit and a crease form between his brows.

He had come over asking for assistance to that sale on equipment on the other end of town. He hadn't _really_ needed her assistance, but considered her presence and even baited her with the promise of him nabbing the headphones she wanted or a accessory.

At least to her, this is all that she has been feeling she is good for, that he likes to keep her around for the heavy lifting and hard work. Sure, they've talked a lot and joked in the past just as much as close friends before she began hanging around with Sherry, but... Sherry just didn't...

Pietro's frowning. "Since when?"

"Since for a while now."

He hums.

"I'm...uh..."

He squints. "You've been asking weird. Ronny too. You've been acting weird ever since you started hanging around _them_." His hands find his pockets.

She returns his suspicious stare. "Whose _them_?"

"You know. Those—-"

"Who? Amanda? Sherry? Katie?"

"Yes them."

"Weren't _you_ the one who said that I, the weirdo, doesn't have girl friends? That I need to find some so I won't keep stealing Ronny from you? Well I have them now."

He's appalled. "Since when did I say that?"

Meisha's bright brown eyes look like they could be golden under the right amount of light. "At your house when we were playing trivia."

"I don't remember that!" He looks to the side, truly trying to recall. "You remember that? No way you could."

She told that she did. "Look, Pete, I'm just not feeling up to it. And...and I just don't really want to anymore. I don't wanna be apart of your schemes. You should...you should probably stop stealing anyways, too. Ronny told me how last time this summer, the police showed up to your house. It isn't—-"

"Stop." And his nose wrinkles. "First, you know that they would never find out the truth. And two, you _know_ that I would always take the heat from it, not you. And—what are you, my mom now?"

She's shocked. "N-no, wha—-"

"Because you're starting to sound like _them_. You used to like doing stuff, having _fun_ , and watching _Battlestar Galactica_ , and _hanging out_ with me and Ronny." He gives her a look over once. "You're even starting to _look_ like those _valley girls_." Pietro has a face that, when controlled by emotion, can look venomous, lethal.

Meisha has her hair down, loose ends tickling the top of the folds of her knees. It is held back only by a thin purple headband. "I've been acting weird because I'm making new friends?" Her grip tightens on the door again and she begins to appear angry.

" _Friends_?" What about himself? And Ronny? He wants to ask; what about the as friends?

"Yes, _friends_. And I _like_ them because they're nice people." She's definitely angry now, Pietro can tell, by how she's glaring through her eyebrows. " _I_ know about the people I spend my time with. They aren't some _bimbo_ , Peter. ...They aren't like _Mckenzie,_ " the girl spits the name offensively.

 _RED_

And at that moment, Meisha almost sees _red_. There's a pricking, heated feeling that rises from her feet and suddenly she wants to see malice, and wrath, and blood. There's a voice in her head, encouraging the acts, and she can feel her restraint slipping. The ends of her hair begin to sway, she can feel it moving on its own. She pictures all too clearly how easy it would be, the thrill of it, and rush of adrenaline, how if she couldn't have her number one pick, then no one could.

Pietro glances down once, seeing her hair beginning to rise.

 _RED_

She sees Pietro's face go from offense to anger to one that's difficult to read but makes her chest tighten. "Or Juliet," she says, and then his mouth sets in a line. "I actually like them, a lot, so please don't screw this up." She works her tone to calm. "And I'm _busy_ today, Pete. So—that's it! So, _no_ I won't go with you...this time."

The door closes after that, and he's left on the porch still a contortion of emotions until he soon sets on rancor. " _Fine_ ," he grunts.

This is the second time this month that she's denied his invitations. The first had been to come over to the arcade with him and Ronny. The taller mutant had been the more suspicious at the time. But now that Ronny has been avoiding contact since, and with Meisha isolated like this, Pietro sees now. The plan he originally concocted to make both rush over hadn't gone through, both's schedules this past summer not matching up.

But she didn't need to bring Mckenzie into this. Or Rainy.

Pietro cranes his neck back, looking up to the sky, spotting three cotton clouds. He snaps his head back forward. " _Fine!_ " He shouts loud enough that he knows she hears. Though he is disappointed, he doesn't want to pry, knowing how sensitive she can be. He doesn't want to pester her and would rather stay favored and on her good side. Pietro gives a little huff, tapping the toe of his beat-up sneaker on the concrete doorstep, then pulls his hat further over his brows, and is gone the following second.

Inside, Meisha leans against the wall near the corner that leads to the hallway. Her lower arm is pressed against the wallpaper, her other palm is covering her mouth, teeth gritting. Her hair is outstretched around her like tentacles, flowing like being underwater. She does hear him shout and winces. Her palm presses to her lips.

 _RED_

There's a voice in her head telling that she made the wrong decision, to run out there and meet him and tell that she was wrong. To explain that he was the best candidate and that she couldn't afford to lose him—keeping him prisoner if need be. But there is another opinion, a calmer one speaking to stick to her previous plans for self care today. Meisha scratches at the wallpaper with one hand, hurting and confused, unsure of which one to listen to.

Meisha has two voices living inside her head  
 _A secret she keeps that no one knows  
_ _A rabid wolf versus a domestic pup  
_ Fighting, growling, indecisive

WILD

Two voices, two selves like the sides of a coin  
the girl and the monster  
Two selves that she is yet to control harmoniously

NAÏVE  
UNHINGED  
 _a coin flip  
_ ODDITY  
MUTANT

MONSTER

When the front door opens again later that day as her mother returns, Meisha is hugging her knees on the carpet floor, hair limp, falling over her knees and down her shoulders, temple leaned against the wall as she slept, dried tear stains on her cheeks.


	6. Chapter 4: De-harmonize

"Go away Pete... . I don't feel like it right now. I don't need any side comments."

"Yeah, because that'll totally get rid of me." He sits in the single recliner chair near her, then gives her a once over look. He's sucking on a green popsicle taken on his zooming over, finishing it in the next few seconds. "Besides, it doesn't seem like you need _my_ help on _fucking up_ this time."

Wanda sends him a crude glaring grimace, and then curses at him.

Their aunt is heard rummaging in the kitchen around the corner currently. The family had just entered home, their littlest sister hurrying straight to her bedroom to play with a new play-set Pietro nabbed from a toy-store for her. The the front door had slammed noticeably after the twins before Marya stomps past and off to the kitchen and Pietro disappear to his room, leaving poor Wanda alone waiting for the oncoming wrath.

Earlier, Wanda had been held up in the dean's office at Sherbrooke High, their aunt Marya not wasting a breath on mentioning the time-restraints it took for her to come, how she had to call off her extra-hours she had scheduled at work to go pick up their sister and now them after school. Wanda hadn't raised her head from her fingers outside the dean's office, too ashamed and embarrassed. When Marya had been seated across from the aging dean, the same one who informed her of Pietro's failing grades months ago, she had been told about Wanda's scandal involving the school's mascot costume, and that she has been punished with two days worth of detention.

Marya hadn't been pleased, to put it nicely.

Now, she's likely pouring herself a swallow of brandy, sighing with her eyes closed and probably pinching the top bridge of her nose as she steels herself against the counter. Wanda was more or less the silent golden child who stayed herself. Performing this act was so out of character for the girl...

"This isn't a joke, Pietro," Wanda worries, forcing her voice to a whisper.

" _Ha_ , it kind of is—to me!"

There's a clang in the kitchen sink and Aunt Marya returns, indeed pinching the bridge of her nose. Her large purse slides from her shoulder to the coffee table, keys jangling inside. There's pause of silence in the living room as she looks Wanda over, glancing once at Pietro slouched in the recliner. She has one arm folded over her chest, her other elbow propped up on it. Almost a full minute passes before she breaths and utters a fed-up, "ok... _explain_."

Pietro's hand shot up. "Well I'd just like to say that I had no part in this. Wanda's gone crazy, absolutely."

Marya snaps at him to shut up. She directs her index fingers that are pressed together to point at her eldest daughter. "What—-? I don't even know... Wanda, _what were you thinking_!?" The young mutant doesn't look up from her fingers gripping her knees. Marya scolds, "the school mascot? At an assembly? What kind of idiotic, foolish thing was going through your head?" Her tone is unrelenting and quite remorseless, steadily climbing in volume. "That man told me that some people said they saw you make a shoe _fly_? You could have exposed yourself!" She throws her arms up. "Something could have gone wrong! Do you know what kind of _danger_ everyone could have been in?!"

Wanda blinks, lifts her head, and she's confused. "...What?" _'Danger?'_

Marya is pacing the space of the living room carpet. "Did I stutter?" She then repeats herself in Serbian. Then again in English, "how could you be so _foolish_ , child?"

"If it means anything, she—-" Pietro begins raising his hand again before being cut off.

"No, it _doesn't_ ," Marya snaps again, and his hand lowers again. Marya's face has turned a flushed pink in her rant and as her voice escalated to where she is practically yelling in the house. She exclaims again of Wanda putting everyone in danger, Wanda's thoughtless move, and she has to take a few minutes to breath and calm down. Finally relaxed once more, Marya shakes her head, taking a seat on the three-seated couch. She takes another sighing breath. "This is...so unlike you..."

The twins couldn't meet her gaze confidently.

"Do you not know that each time you do this, they get a _little more_ suspicious? That people notice these little things you do? That you could put everyone here and all you know in danger because if they found out—-!"

"If they found out something bad will happen," Pietro finishes, not quiet in a disrespectful tone, but one that told that this speech has been told before.

"Yes. And you need to _act_ by it. At _all times_." Marya's arms are folded across her large chest. "Both of you."

Pietro's lips part, staring almost in disbelief. "I've been trying to tell that!"

"I—-!" Wanda stops, swallows seeing both are watching her. "I...It was my fault. It was a dare, and—-"

Marya looks taken-aback and unconvinced. "A _dare_...?" She holds the side of her chin with her fingers.

Wanda swallows. "I-I was dared to steal the head of the mascot or else I would be ridiculed throughout the whole school."

A pause passes through the mid-tone living room. Marya finally asks, "did you tell this to the dean?"

"He said he didn't care."

Marya turns to Pietro. "And you knew about this?"

He told that Wanda revealed it to him when he first sat down beside her outside the dean's office. Marya asks if Wanda has known those who put her up to it for very long. She didn't, Wanda answers. Then she asks whether Wanda felt threatened by them. The young mutant answers yes.

"But they're popular. You should be scared of anyone popular."

Pietro holds up a finger. "That's _not_ necessarily true..."

And this time, Marya doesn't shush him. She points a finger. "Actually...he's right." She ignores his triumphant smirk and Wanda's mouth falls open in disbelief.

Toward the back of the house, the youngest Maximoff plays with the new toys her olde brother stole for her while her mother explains the importance of independence and a backbone. However, Wanda is still given a punishment, and is grounded for the next two weeks. No phone, no friends, no leaving the house, and increased chores. Of course Pietro snickers, and it's then revealed that those chores will roll over to him, and he sobers up.

 _ **. . .  
. . .**_

It's a publicity stunt.

The way Mr. Capulet squeezes the shoulders of his daughter and the place his puts his hands behind his wife—high, behind her shoulders like some kind of political running mate or _grandmother_ —and the plastered, pearlescent smile that is printed on hundreds of posters across town and TV ads played over and over could have fooled anyone. They have fooled everyone. Because he has the tailored suits, the lawyers, the charming smile, the reputation, the loyal wife and obedient daughter.

It's all for the press.

And it's not like anyone would particularly _believe_ Rainy if she revealed how her father is a liar and a fruad; how after every their conference meetings or speaking with the press, while his palms were always pressed to the back of his wife's shoulders, it always held in the small dip Deborah's back, his social manager, and his hand can sometimes be seen lowering still... No one would likely believe her how they aren't living the happy-go-lucky marriage like on television, of how he played part in driving her mother to become an addict. No one would _believe_ her about the stories of the numerous threats of divorce, of their now open marriage, money swindled, and that he wishes to annihilate all mutants, if not only eliminate them from citizen benefits.

Well, all those would likely be held as contagious lies, but the last one, he would likely earn support for it.

In fact, he has. And it makes Rainy uneasy about how encouraging he is about it, how he continues to tell that lie of a story about how she was almost kidnapped by a mutant when she was tiny—there was no mutant, no near kidnapping at all.

It surprises Rainy and it repulses her. So, after another speaking conference came to a close, her father smiles as their camera is raised to their faces, and her mother pinches Rainy's shoulder and instructs her to smile. Deborah is surveying the room from the only set of doors, Rainy sees. Her father and mother finish answering the last set of questions before Mr. Capulet raises a hand and gestures closer. Along with an escort, the blonde woman pushes past the swarming journalists to guide the family out—and _of course_ her pale, dainty hand finds her father's shoulder to latch onto. When the woman glances in her direction, Rainy gives her a vile sneer. Deborah's tone wavers, but she clears her throat and continues on about statistics and to woo the public more.

Apparently, election voting day is nearing.

Rainy is asked what she thought about her father's answers to the questions—she's asked for kicks, she knows, and shrugs her shoulders and tells that she doesn't remember most of them. She has a feeling her father frowns at this but she doesn't pay attention to that either. Earlier at home, her father had asked her what color tie he should wear. Rainy told any but burgundy red because "everyone will be focused on the tie, and not the words from the man." Her father pouted, telling it was Deborah's favorite color. Rainy knows that.

"Burgundy red still isn't a flattering color. It makes you appear an attention seeker. A hooker," she adds for emphasis. "Especially with large, clunky jewlry. Just for future references," she tells her father right there in the echoing hall they're walking down. Rainy knows without looking that Deborah glances down at her dark gskirt suit of the exact shade and large golden jewelry. "Well, at least that way it'd be easier to see what _some_ are doing."

Deborah will later slide off her large bracelets and earrings into a pocket in her briefcase.

And Rainy sees her mother force a smile that's a little too wide and bit too stale; the glances given toward Deborah don't go unnoticed as the blonde leans in to his ear, her fingers grazing the shoulder of his polyester jacket. Rainy shoulders past. Her father places a hand on Deborah's hip, pushing her away. Her mother places a kiss in her hair above her forehead. Rainy wonders where Deborah lives and what skeletons hide in her closet.

 _ **. . .  
. . .**_

Meisha twirls the telephone cord around a finger. It's nighttime; her bedroom is dimly lit, a lava lamp given by an aunt two years ago casts a slight glow on the walls, her bedsheets, her tan skin; her bed sheets that are almost never made and tan skin, freckled shoulders exposed in a pajama tank top and rabbit-patterened pajama pants. She's holding the receiver to her corded phone craddled between her hands. The phone rings once, twice, five times. She worries that it isn't going to be answered.

A man picks up the phone, voice baritone and grating, rough. He burps quietly into the speaker.

"Who's calling?"

Meisha stutters over her words, forces a smile. "Hi Mr. Di Gallo. It's Meisha. I—is, uh. I-is Ronny home?"

There's a grunt then the sound of squeaking springs as he stands. From her end, something ruffles against the receiver. Mr. Ricardo Di Gallo calls out into the house for his son. Meisha hears Ronny approach seconds later, followed by a brief exchange she couldn't quite make out. Ricardo mumbles into the phone that Ronny is getting the phone in the kitchen, and twelve seconds later the teen has picked up and is out of breath.

Meisha's nose wrinkles. "Did you run?"

Ronny runs a hand through his short hair. He's been trying to grow it out, it making a short mop atop his head. His father hates it. "No, I—-" His hand falls to his hip, and licks his lips. "I was—-I was a bit busy. Why're you calling?"

Meisha reels. Remembering that he couldn't see her reactions, she voices, "what? Why do you sound defensive? Like I can't call a friend to see how he's doing?"

She hears him chuckle, scoffs. "Oh, _friend_..."

And she frowns. "Yes, _friend_. Why are you saying it like that?"

"It's...no reason."

"Why are you saying it like we aren't anymore?"

On his side Ronny shrugs. "I dunno. I just...I haven't seen you quite lately and whenever I do you barely even—" He breaks off with a drawn out sigh, running a hand over his nose.

Meisha looks down at her comforters, her dark eyebrows drawing together. "You sound like Peter..." It's a mutter under her breath which she doesn't expect him to pick up. But he does.

Ronny leans against the patterned wall of the kitchen. It's a pale yellow and blue and white backdrop that his mother convinces goes with the laminate kitchen countertops. "Why? ...You've talked with Peter? What'd he say, Meesh?"

She hesitates hearing the nickname. It's one only he and Pietro call her, who are _allowed_ to call her. Ronny had been the one who coined it. "I saw him yesterday, after he came to my doorstep," she wraps the cord around three of her fingers. "He wanted to go rob another place." She hears a dry chuckle on the other end. Both are quite used to their friend's sticky fingers, both having been accomplices in Peter's schemes many times over.

"And you told him _no_?! Wow, Meesh, I'm surprised!"

She gapes. "You _know_ I don't like committing crimes! I never have."

"I know." He's grinning widely now, like a reptile. "But it's _Pete_."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Aw, come on, Meisha..."

"I don't know what you're talking about." She flips her long red-orange hair over her shoulder. It's spread out around her on her unkept bed comforters. She pulls up the thin strap of her night shirt. "But..." She pauses, then leans against the head of her bed. There's a large plus what'ste rabbit Pietro won for her at a county fair two years ago. "I am worried about him..."

"Why?" Ronny doesn't catch on.

" _Why_? Because everything. Mckenzie, Juliet, everything that's going on. I just don't want him to get hurt, you know? And then there's that anti-mutant mayor guy..." A hand runs through her short bangs.

Ronny mumbles that he understands, that he feels the same way. Meisha craddles the phone between her cheek and shoulder.

There's a shared moment of silence. There's a sports game in Ronny's background, his father cursing. Meisha's lava lamp changes from violet to hot pink atop her bedside table. He shuffles on his feet, turning his back to the direction of the living room. A section of Meisha's hair parts into a tentacle, grabs the cup at her bedside, raising it to her lips. Outside her bedroom, her mother is still out for work errands, her father likely reclined in his room with a mystery novel. Meisha's hair places the cup back; the back if her palm wipes her mouth.

"Hey...?"

He makes a noise of acknowledgment.

"How are you doing with it all?"

He shrugs. Then remembering she couldn't see that through the phone, "same as you, I guess. There haven't been any incidents with The Bees, so—-"

"No Ronny. How are you _doing_ with _it all_?" she repeats, and then he gets it. She hadn't put emphasis in her words so he missed that she wasn't particularly asking about his mood. She meant his mutation; how was he dealing with it.

"I don't know," he tells, then admits, "I—-I—-there's something going on, I feel, I think, with it. Like—-well, this summer I got a bad _rash_ and..."

She adjusts herself to sit straighter. His voice gives off an uneasy notion.

"It _still hasn't gone away_. Meisha, I think it's _spreading_...!" Because Ronny is more worried and paranoid, no one uses the words _mutants_ or _mutation_ or any other adjective about it in the presence of his parents, in fear that they discover and his father put a bullet through his head.

"It's spreading?"

"And it's getting worse...!" As Ronny talks, he runs a hand under his shirt, feeling the dry, chapped skin that no lotion has been able to fix, where there really, _really_ is an indistinguishable scaley pattern appearing. It's under his wristwatch too, behind his right ear and peeks up from the back of his swimming trunks. Sometimes he'll scratch at it, an irritation in sight and sensation, and it's like his skin flakes _off_ , _completely_. Sometimes after slathering on Vaseline doesn't work, he'll have a panic attack.

"Ronny..." She sounds perturbed.

Silence. He looks over his shoulder, hearing his father had gone quiet in the living room. He calls out, asking what team is winning. His father grunts a reply. Then hearing Meisha's voice squeak on the other end brings him back. It's a quaky, "I'm scared," that could have been easily missed.

He asks for more clarification. Her inhale is quivering, like her bottom lip is trembling, like she's about to cry.

"Me too, I mean." She breathes again, still unsteady. "I...it happened again. Almost. I—-it—-got bad again. I almost lost control again." Her palm covers her face. On the other side of the line, he asks when it occurred. She squeaks that it had been on the day Pietro was at her door. Ronny asks if the speedster knew that it was happening, if he said anything. She answers, "he must have. Ronny, what if it happens again? What if I won't be able to control it this time? What if—-" She breaks off with a sniff that turns into a sob.

Her worry is justified. As a fellow mutant whose abilities seem to constantly be changing, he understood. Meisha wouldn't hurt a bug—on top that she's much too afraid to—and at least not purposely. Ronny has witness her abilities first hand. He knows what she's able to do but also that she wouldn't; he knows that she's afraid to, and he personally thinks she has every right to be. Because he's gotten papercuts by accident and seen her hair slice through object like a cleaver through cheese, and that's enough convincing for him.

But the voice...

The voice is a different story

"Nothing's going to happen." He tries to form a smile. It doesn't work. "It won't happen again. You'll be fine, Meisha. You can control this." He feels like he's lying to a mirror. "You can control this. It's nothing but a silly voice of your insecurities."

He hears her sniff. She doesn't say anything. Worrying that it's happening again, he calls for her.

A small "thanks" is all she gives.

Ronny sucks his lip. "Say...how about I talk to Peter when I see him again, and maybe we all can go out? Since we haven't in, like, forever," he tries. "Yeah? That sound good?"

"Sure."

"Meisha, you're going to have to give me a little more than _sure_." The phone is in a death grip. He hopes that the drop in her tone is only sleepiness.

"Sure. Yeah. Whatever you want to do, Ron."

And she hangs up. The dial tone almost echoes in the vinyl-styled kitchen. The phone is placed back on the wall; Ronny freezes hearing the one in the living room too. Swallowing, he slinks out of the room and comes face to face with his father. The large television is turned way low, and his green eyes focus on his son, and Ronny wonders if his father can tell he's panicking.

Ricardo blinks, takes a swig of the beer in his right hand. "That friend of yours doing ok?"

Well he doesn't sound _mad_.

Ronny nods, swallows again. His palms are sweating. "Yeah. She's fine."

Ricardo nods. He glances at the television. "So what's this...about some _rash_ you have?" One eyeybrows quirks, and Ronny's stomach begins turning in on itself. "Is there something you want to talk to me about?"

* * *

 ** _A/N: Hi. I'm sorry I haven't been updating as frequently. I've had school, editing Instigator, and working on a Pietro/Rainy short set in the future. And to be honest I haven't had much motivation to jump back into this story. It's likely the crickets that sound every time I do post basically anything. Actually, it very well is that reason. But I'll keep updating this story, and even though as much as I really, really do like it and want to finish it asap, I can't guarantee updates will be very often due to no one seeming to give a shit and to tell me if they do. Silence doesn't say a thing._**

 ** _Hopefully I'll have the next chapter out sometime soon. (And it has more interactionswith Rainy and Peter in it.) But after that I can't guarantee anything because there isn't any feedback given TO motivate me with._**

 ** _Contact me on tumblr for anything._**


	7. Chapter 5: Interference

The thing is—

 _The thing is_ —

The thing is when Pietro Maximoff returned to school on that first day after summer break, a collection of faces didn't turn to him when he stepped foot inside. He couldn't share that things have returned to normal, hopefully. And it wasn't the attention per se that him wanted—he _loved_ attention, craved it in fact—but it was the _type_ , stares and the _eye rolls_ that would increase as he passed, the snickering from familiar faces affiliated with the popular cliques.

That's how it had been. Now, instead, no one gives him a second look. There are no snickering and no one hunting him to be a victim to be tossed into a dumpster. Sure, the boy is always up for attention, but _that_ type left him feeling tense and uneasy, and so, he keeps his head down. At least it isn't as bad as it had been those weeks following the Spirit Week annual house party, when _slut_ and _cheat_ and other obscenities were spray-painted across Mckenzie's locker. Now, however, he walks through the crowds of students without a worry. It felt weird. It felt relieving.

It's almost like he was no longer a proposely ostracized geek, a weirdo only needed for the comic relief for others. Now, he was just another face.

He doesn't know if that's a particularly a good thing or not.

Ronny is already leaning against the lockers next to Pietro's when the other arrivals. The speedster had been told that Meisha hadn't even stopped by for a _smile_ or _good morning_. Ronny had spoken this with an edge of bitterness.

Pietro raises a gray eyebrow, turning the combination lock. The girl's attitude had begun rolling off his shoulder by now, and he has grown accustomed to her changing personas, so this one wasn't necessarily fazing—but not that he necessarily _liked_ it either.

Ronny stops talking, seeing his friend take a breath, cracking the locker door open to pull out a textbook. His brows rise in surprise.

Last time, last school year after the house party on Spirit Week, word had gotten around and Pietro had been the butt of many jokes, cheers, and threats written on folded Post-It Notes slipped in the holes of his locker. It had gotten around of what happened at the party—included in the news of couples that ended and formed that night; among other disasters, of a girl who was sloppy-drunk and treated as a markerboard and alcohol dumster and crude entertainment, and Mckenzie being found in a closet with the lower-level gray-haired _geek_. The topping on the cake during that week had been the spray-paint across Mckenzie's locker telling that her deed was now known throughout the school.

But that had been last year. And it is either forgotten or that horrible night never spoken of again. Pietro hopes it's the first.

Now it is early August. The mutant doesn't have a prank hidden in his locker and the pink spray paint has long been washed off, but the impression was still there. Ronny watches the other silently, and Pietro wonders if he too remembers, if he _knows_. He feels his ears beginning to burn.

"I'm still trying to get used to you using textbooks," Ronny admits, his face contorted in a partially befuddled emotion. "You must've really changed." He sounds genuinely taken by surprise. "What happened, Pete? Because...because this is kinda _creepy_."

Pietro rolls his eyes, jutting his chin. No one has spoken of any of the Spirit Week incidents since, and definitely because of the last week, Pietro hopes that all of the disasters and mistakes made that night has all been swept under the rug.

To be honest, he kind of deaded returning to school.

The rumors are true

That Mckenzie Shabotz transferred

SCARED

HUMILIATED

STRIPPED

Pietro pouts, a brow raising. His neck cranes further than he remembers to look his friend in the eye. "You got taller. When did you get taller?"

Ronny shrugs. "Probably during the time I was _fearing for my life_ this summer. You know, you could have _called_."

The mutant brushes his light bangs out his eyes and admits that he could have. And he really, truly would have, but...

"I got busy," Pietro lies.

"Busy? You said you didn't _do_ _anything_ this summer. What could you _possibly_ have been _busy_ with?"

He doesn't have an immediate response. " _Stuff_ ," he answers after a beat of a pause.

It's currently the end of the school day. Most were leaving to go home, others going to extracurricular activities on campus, or piling into cars to speed off until the nighttime.

Ronny asks if the other has spoken to Meisha recently, stating that he's worried about her, about her having suddenly changed so much. Really, Ronny is worried about her mutation. Pietro tells that it isn't much of his concern anymore, then mutters out something about Meisha being a _traitor_ and disappointment. And of course, this gets his other friend riled up as if being personally offended. Luckily, since it's the end of the day, Pietro only hurries away as Ronny rants, cursing after him. He thinks: sometimes the brunette can be so temperamental...

Ronny would lean against the lockers, run his hand through his growing brown hair, cursing that he's fucked up again, that he's probably let Meisha down again. Ronny slams Pietro's open locker. He knows that he's got to do something, hopefully soon.

A few stragglers remain in the school halls—teachers grading papers in their classrooms, junkies gathering to go smoke off campus, a couple or two either shoving their tongues down each other's throats or hurrying off, hand in hand. Pietro scrunches his nose.

The front lawn is clean, and the parking lot pretty much empty. The school buses are almost all gone. He takes off to the left, not realizing it's the opposite direction to his home until far too late, and his pride permitting him to turn back so soon, knowing the many who were already watching, and him dreading they would follow.

Pietro wonders if he should stay after school to wait out his twin's detention sentence.

A lot has changed since this summer. His sister is likely becoming a delinquent, his aunt fears, and his sticky fingers hasn't lessened. Ronny is becoming increasingly moody, as if the hormonal stage of puberty waited until the _tale end_ so it could hit full-force. Then, Meisha is practically _ignoring_ her two _original_ friends, Pietro and Ronny, like they are complete strangers and as if forgetting their adolescent promise to stick together. One of the highest and powerful in the school's social food chain was chewed and ran out by the one whom had _thought_ to be her best friend—a girl whom Pietro, a _geek_ , had gotten _a hole in one_ with, jumped from first to third base with, an astonishing feat despite the one-sided attraction. There had been _that_ , something about a new teacher, and another getting arrested. And Rainy—

And then there's Rainy...

He pauses. His jeans are worn and the back heel of one of his sneakers are frayed.

Rainy Capulet had been regarded in some parts of school as _weak_. This is because throughout all of the years she has never once been seen doing anything active. She wasn't a part of any extracurricular activity or group, and kept to herself for the most part. The closest category she was in is a subdivision of popular cliques who have a friendlier reputation that that of The Bees, the crueler popular kids, the one Mckenzie had been a part of. But Rainy had never been a part of a club, sport, or band. She has always that one in the classroom reading a book by herself or staring out the window, or spitting degrading remarks to any boy who tried to approach her with sexual remarks.

She has always sat at the back of the classroom, reading books alone if she wasn't paying attention. Sometimes it is a hardcover that looks difficult. Other times, it's a comic book with a cover design indicating that it will decrease your intellect just by liking at it. She's that one student who always gets the highest scores in class, and who is always studying because she has nothing better to do in life.

Rainy was the quiet girl. With not only having an unusual name that acquired her fair share of teasing in the past, she has also obtained a un-favored reputation throughout her high school peers, originating from her father. She's lived in this town following a move when she was young and after her father began pursing his political career.

She hadn't cared about that. Not then, anyway. She hadn't cared about many things her father did, and not only because she hadn't understood them then.

She just _didn't care_. She couldn't—she couldn't feel physically or emotionally, all results from a sort of _curse_ she's had for years.

A month prior to summer break, she experienced a life-changing event that restored all of her back to normal—or, whatever normal that was. Pietro had been there. He had seen the entire process, of her trying to be felt-up by the same man that cursed her, who happened to be a mutant, and who was likely well into his forties.

Rainy had been restored to normal, and since, Pietro had only seen her in passing, almost as if those months they spent had dissipated. And now...

He rocks back on his heels, thumbs stuck inside the pockets of his denim jeans. He pauses, catching sight of the girl in the distance. He runs a hand through his hair and lowers his chin, debating whether to scurry away or partake in conversation because either way she's likely going to see him. He watches her emerge from a small discount store with a plastic bag hanging by one hand. In the other she is sifting through coins as she approaches an ice-cream truck in the parking lot next over. Distance allows a view of her exchanging money for a tall cone, and then rests in the dying summer sun. Picking up his pace, Pietro sees her sitting on a low concrete wall beside a bus-stop, and he squares his shoulders, inhales deeply, steadying himself for what there is to come...

He walks past without so much as a mumble from her. As he gains distance again, he slows, glances back. She's still with one hand around the bag's hand holes, and slowly eating soft-serve. He fiddles his belt, bottom lip jutting, and skips backward until he's in front of her.

She stares up at him.

Pietro's mouth opens in accusation and then closes, thinking of word. Finally, he frowns, "this isn't fun, you know."

She pauses eating. "What? What did you expect me to do? Did you expect me to stop what I was doing to say greeting as you walked by embarrassingly?"

He gapes again. Then loudly, " _yes_! Isn't that what friend are _supposed_ to do?" It's more of a mock than a question.

"I don't know. Do they?"

He isn't sure if she's joking or not.

She stares at him, blinks. He shuffles on his feet, crossing his arms as he looks down at her, frowning. She licks at a falling drop of chocolate.

"You're still pretty grating, you know," he speaks.

"And you're pretty much still a delinquent, as regarded by most at school." Her tone is still calm and aloof, and she doesn't catch his eyes widening. "What were you trying to do pulling a major stunt like that? Change your status like that? You don't go around those types of people. It doesn't work that easy, and you know people here always talk. In fact, this right here may be a risk right now."

Pietro is already well aware of his poor reputation and his pranks aren't very unknown. But hearing this...he isn't quite sure how to take it—and what she is accusing him of, he isn't sure. The last _stunt_ he could think of that he pulled is...

He blanches. Was she asking about the Spirit Week house party? He had been trying to work the gossip down after seeing Mckenzie's plummeted spirits afterward. He's been trying to erase it since.

He swallowed, and hopes that Rainy couldn't tell he is nervous. "What stunt?"

She blinks. "The mascot, of course. Everyone's talking about it." She doesn't witness his shoulders slump and tiny sigh of reliefand she turns to her ice cream.

"And you think I'm a part of that?" he questions, suddenly wondering her motive.

"Not particularly. But your misadventures isn't necessarily a curiosity of mine, and your whereabouts is insignificant to me," she answers to which he responds with a hand to his chest and an feigned _"I'm hurt"_ before her. "But people are starting to wonder and suspect." She eats a chunk of chocolate at the top of the melting swirl. "If you truly want recognition and respect, all you have to do is ask—the right people, of course."

She is giving him a subtle cue with her eyes, he is _sure_.

"And you think _you_ could help _me_?" He scoffs. "I'm not some type of charity case, _Juliet_. I don't want your payback. I don't want your stinkin' money. And I _damn sure_ don't want your—-!"

The rant breaks when a large lidded plastic cup splashes on the pavement a foot from Pietro's jeans, the pickup truck and it's perpetrators of several senior year males roar past. The driver honks and their hoots and laughter echo down the street, only one cursing about how he "fucking missed!"

Rainy licks at her ice-cream cone, the top half eaten. Pietro, who had taken the most of the blast, has his lips pursed and eyes squeezed closed in reflex, hands still held outright from talking. She sees his right leg is almost entirely soaked. He holds up a finger for her to not comment. It smells like one of the blue-colored soft drinks.

"You know, you're one of the few only ones who still call me Juliet." She licks along the side of her cone.

A city bus approaches, and leaves when neither get on.

"Yeah don't flatter yourself." He wrings out the bottom of his t-shirt where it is moist. "Who are the others? Your suitors?"

"Usually it's by some airhead macho-man who doesn't know how to take a joke, or _no_ for an answer," and to which he mutters that her jokes _are_ terrible. She ignores this. "They say it when they're having a tantrum or when illogically angry." She watches him shake his head once quickly for a wetness test. He's still frowning. "Are _you_ angry, Maximoff?"

He chides sarcastically that he's _wonderful_ , that he's _just peachy_.

She states that she had been serious about her question, unsure why he used sarcasm. "I'm still not good at these sort of things," she admits. "But that is likely the first attacks of many this year." She means about the flying cup, aimed at him.

"I told you not to comment on it."

"Well then would you like me to sugarcoat it? Say that everything is going to be alright, and they are likely _not_ possibly turning around to not miss this time?"

He glares.

She continues. "I asked about your status because of your sister. I don't know how close you two are, but she could be on her way of becoming a delinquent, especially after that stunt pulled and who she is hanging around. Almost everyone knows it was her, the girl you said was your sister."

"Why should I care about what she does...better yet, why do _you_? You don't know her."

"Is she not your sister?"

"Yeah, but—-"

"She's likely goingto be dragged around through the mud if this continues on. I've never really heard much about her, and I suppose that's a good sign..."

"Yeah well Wanda's a weirdo. Why should I really care what she does," he lies, saving face.

"Do you not get along?"

Pietro pauses, wondering how much he should say, whether he should even respond. "'We're always fighting. Bickering. Something, I don't know. She's moody."

Rainy nods. A van with rambunctious children drives by.

"I thought you liked your sister."

"When have I ever said _liked_?"

"You didn't need to." She pauses as she eats. "Meaning, it's not she's particularly hideous or you both are always at each other's throats."

He sighs, rolling his eyes. "Yeah I guess so."

"Tell me. Is she the type of ugly that makes your eyes bleed from looking at her? Or did she betray your trust?"

"Um, not exactly."

"I remember you talking fondly of her. That one day before summer break. You live your sister, don't you?"

He rubs his palm over his shirt, flattening it. "Don't keep saying it like that. People might get the wrong idea."

"That you love your sister?"

"Don't say it like that!" he hisses.

"So you do care?" She's smirking. Rainy crosses her knees. "Of course, with you getting all nervous...could be either because you're one of those who secretly likes his siblings, or is too ashamed to show it." She watches a flash of offense cross his face, and then shock, and then he's stumped. She holds in a grin. "Or would you fall in love with a lover who is not blood-related?"

His eyes flare. "Like I said—-! Huh, a lover that isn't blood-related?"

He looks almost dumbfounded, and she laughs. He can feel his ears beginning to burn as well.

"Joking! I was testing you just now."

He frowns. " _Why_?"

She shrugs. "For an experiment." And he counters with _"what possible experiment?"_ She moves over to get out of the sun. "For a friend. She wants to know."

"Oh really?"

She's almost finished with the ice cream cone. "So, Peter..." She looks down the road. "Would you like a girlfriend?"

First, he froze; so often he's been referred to as his last name that her calling him _Peter_ had sent off some kind of alarm in his head. And then—and then she asks... _this question_ , and suddenly he doesn't know how to answer, whether he _should_ answer, and his stomach turns to mush.

"What would happen if I say yes?"

"They you'll have a girlfriend. That's all."

He's struck silent. He's almost shocked, bewildered because _no way this could be happening this easily_.

"Girls don't really like me."

This time she looks over and sees him fiddling with his bangs poking out from under his black hat. She doesn't know how to reply, so she doesn't. Maybe three seconds pass before he speaks.

"Who is it?" He doesn't look at her.

"I—-" She stops, considers, pokes out her bottom lip. "I can reveal to you when we get back to school."

"Oh."

It's Meisha that Rainy is referring to, but isn't sure how the other girl would take it, decides to keep it a secret for now. She'll probably ask Sherry to phone the redhead, since Rainy isn't very close to her.

She waits for his reply. He doesn't speak. She doesn't know what to do so she asks again.

"Would you like one then?"

And it looks as if he really does consider. He bites his lip and still doesn't look Rainy in the eye. When he responds "no," it's after a wailing police cruiser zooms by.

"Oh. Ok." She leans back on one hand.

The sky is open and blue. She points out a cloud that reminds her of a giraffe.

Pietro scrathes his hair. Inside, he's screaming, and kicking himself. He kicks at the sidewalk, and because he doesn't know what to do with his hands, shoves them into his pockets.

Now, Rainy rarely speaks in school. Those who know her have noticed the noticeable change in her attitudes and persona—especially Pietro. It's a big change that neither could speak about, almost like their little secret. And even though Rainy has been going to school with many of the same people from the same middle school, not many of them have interacted with each other. It was a moderately small town where one would suspect everyone to know each other. But they didn't.

"Well, on a different subject," she looks at him. "Would you come over? My house?"

Pietro's eyes widen, his head snapping up. She isn't smiling, isn't doing _anything_ except just _staring_ with that same impassive face of hers, and a drop of chocolate on her lip, and a curl the window blows loose feom her ponytail. And he tightens his crossed arms, and doesn't realize right away that his breathing is shallowing and his stomach growing queasy, and his train of thought and insults he wanted to say _hits a dead end_ , and, and, and—-

He swallows. "Um..."

She raises an eyebrow expectantly.

* * *

 _ **A/N: This is a little blurp that was sitting in drafts. Lately I've been feeling really blah and unmotivated, particularly with this fic, so I'm not sure when I'll be getting back to it. Though if IIam hit with some kind of spark, it will likely be after I finish the other X-Men short I'm working on at the moment. And if I don't get emmerse and distracted with other writing ideas which is becoming increasingly likely...**_

 _ **to Misshola: it's not so much as writing for myself as it is just asking for feedback. The thing with writing is that it can be difficult staying on one project without getting distracted. And when you have people who supposedly like something, so you dish out more of it, and then they all become quiet, you're like "damn, did ai do something wrong?" So you ask, and still no response, so you lose motivation to stay to it constanty and so it may end up getting updated maybe once a month to onve a year (which I might likely start doing. I'm not sure just yet.)**_

 ** _A good analogy I saw before: you're a baker. You hand out a plate of cookies and all you ask for in return are ways to improve the recipe or if you liked the cookies or not. The first time you may get a swarm of comments and praise, but after the third or fourth batch the response jar is empty. People come and take your cookies without you knowing, and leaving you confused. You begin worrying if the cookies are bad, and baking isn't quite easy and it's time consuming even though you really like doing it, and so you ask more for opinions. Still cookies are taken without so much as a scribble on paper put in the jar. Eventually you lose the will to bake and give up. You now may only bake at home and for yourself. Writing is pretty much the same thing, that's all._**


	8. Chapter 6: Snake Eyes

There's a man in a casino. He cooly, confidently takes a seat at a poker table. He's dressed in a brown cotton suit that appears to have been bought from Macy's; he's bemused, mouse brown hair and a slightly attentive expression on a face that probably belongs more to a shy, virginial _college junior_.

The man leans against the wooden bar, orders, "deal me in." Asks for a cigarette and a whiskey shot.

The cocktail waiter questions if he "should be having something like that for your age?"

The man shoots a glare like red-hot iron and simultaneously icy cold; corrects the waiter, telling that he's "pretty sure that I can. Thank you." Flashes his driver's license. There's a detective badge inside too. The name reads Spencer Babinski.

The waiter swears that the other's hair sways as if by a breeze. But they're inside a four-walled building in Nevada during the summertime, bodies crowded around so close that there isn't room for a gust of wind. The waiter swallows, leaves. Spencer receives two whiskey shots, the second on the house.

Spencer is here undercover in search for a murderer who is somewhere inside this casino. The suspect is a gambling junkie, and has had a returning streak.

At the slot machine across a Roulette wheel is detective Derek, also undercover.

Spencer takes a seat in an empty at a poker table. The seat he takes is beside the murderer.

And he's dealt into the game. The first cards Spencer shows are a black Queen and a black Jester.

The man beside him flexes his fingers.

Spencer catches the murderer place an expensive looking keychain on the table; his cards are two red Kings.

The detective is looking at the men surrounding the table. Secretly, he's gauging everyone's possible reactions and possible cards. Secretly, he's reading all of them.

He brushes hair froths eyes; his brown hair is messy and reaches to the base of his neck, the sides pinned back by bobby pins. And his eyes are sharp, a bright brown.

His partner, the detective in the back and at the slot machine checks his surroundings. He places ten dollars in the machine. He doesn't win.

One of the players at the poker table call in.

The murderer follows suit. "I'll raise. Eight thousand."

Beside him, Spencer can read that the murderer is nervous. He's rancid, reeks of a guilty conscious and weakness. Spencer absolutely cannot approve of weakness.

His nose wrinkles.

Instead, he straightens his posture, and puts on charm—or what he thinks is charm. Crossing his knees, he tilts his head, speaking as if just getting a random thought. "Eight thousand. That's, uh, fifty-six months wages for the average person in Bangladesh." His eyes move to the murderer at his right. His eyebrows raise innocently and his bottom lip pokes. "Fun fact." And the look is believable. "Kind of makes you think, doesn't it?" He gives a boyish smile.

The murderer swallows, holding Spencer's gaze.

Per the trucker on the other side of the murderer, Spencer slides in a stack of blue and black chips.

The murderer doesn't look away.

"There. Three raises," Spencer tells.

The murderer still hasn't looked away.

Spencer holds the other's gaze, this time without any tricks or boyish charm. And the man grows cold. A spine tingling chill snakes down his spine. And Spencer stares and stares and he stares and he stares and he stares and—

"That's too rich for my blood," one of the poker players speak.

Spencer's long bangs blow in an invisible, un-feeling gust of wind. To the hand, each hair would feel like a sharp, metal string. And in a flashing moment, the other swears that Spencer's eyes flash a brighter, almost amber brown, and his pupils narrow, flattening out, dangerous and patient—

The murderer freezes. Suddenly it's like looking down a deep, black void; it's like looking in the eyes of a predator, like looking in the eyes of a snake.

The murderer is asked for his call, which he robotically gives. Next, Spencer turns his over his cards, their eye connection now broken and the detective gone back to his boyish exterior.

"Call. Straight," he grins to the men around him, and is responded by a collection of angry groans and sighs.

One of the men proclaim, "a gut shot straight draw? Are you _kidding me_?!"

Spencer tons back to the murderer, rests his chin on his knuckles.

In the background, detective Derek is starting to notice _certain_ looks in Spencer's direction. Derek notices from the murderer's body language that he is about to flee.

"That's just—that is just _nuts_!" a player argues.

Spencer presses his hand to his lips in a thinking gesture. The murderer is now far from intimidated, and is now fearful.

"That's just crazy!"

Spencer eyes the murderer's keychain left on the table. His eyes dart from it, to the murderer, to the stolen hat on his head and the stitched-on name atop the breast pocket that no-way is his, back to the keychain, to the card dealer; and Spencer's hair sways, his eyes brighten, pupils narrowed like a predator's, and the murderer is fearful, flighty, the hairs bone straight on the back of his neck. The mutant—Spencer's gaze travels back and forth between the card dealer's hands as he shuffles the deck again, to the keychain, back to the murderer, and he _smirks_ —

The murderer sprints for a nearby back door.

 ** _. . ._**

Detectives Spencer and Derek do eventually catch up to the murderer—with the help of two more armed detectives waiting outside the building. And later that night before retiring for the night, a small birthday celebration is thrown for a coworker in the office. There are balloons, a gift-wrapped packet of premium cigars, new socks, and a store bought cake decorated with the red frosting which Spencer hates.

He's asked if he will be joining some of them after the celebration. Declining, he remains that he's already scheduled for his days off starting tomorrow. He's going to visit a niece of his who is in high school now.

He doesn't tell that she's been having trouble—not necessarily school related.

Hes also never revealed to anyone on the work force that he is a mutant.

* * *

Reynold "Ronny" DiGallo is insecure, introverted, and an illogical stress-thinker. He's lamppost tall and doe-eyed and lazy, always opting to play sick or injured rather than do difficult labor or school work. His father nitpicks about this quality, stating that _when he was his age, he was_ _working_ , that _when he was his son's age, he didn't complain and had a healthy immune system and was far more daring because he went out and did things, experienced the world_.

If he knew of the things Ronny has already done. When he had to be picked up because the police had gotten involved, or a store manager was provoked—or like when he was little, a classmate hit him in the eye and Ronny wouldn't stop crying. But his father knew about the boy's misdemeanors. He knew about his past and it's frustrating; he knew about his son's friends—

His father had gotten frustrated at Ronny again the week before. After eavesdropping on a phone call with his friend, Meisha, Ronny was sat down and given a pep talk. He was also made to explain what this _rash_ is, that he so freely told his friend about rather than his own parents—the rash really a side effect from his mutation. Thus, Ronny pulled an elaborate background from out his ass before being handed a ten dollar bill and told to go to the drug store for a cream.

Needless to say, the teen was relieved.

Also, his father is anti-mutant. More than once, he's stated that the human population would be better, safer without them. Ronny's mother has never spoken against him.

 _"I'd kill it dead the minute I see one of those_ things _walking around!"_

His father had spoken once

His mother had never protested

Also, Ronny believes that the two will eventually get a divorce—and hopes it will be soon, with all the arguing he hears from the room over.

His parents argue often, loud and vulgar. Hissing and spitting and sometimes things are thrown, doors are slammed, and one would leave in the car. Ronny wonders that when they do separate, who would get the car.

This arguing is a reason why he wasn't feeling up to par when there was a knock on the door, and his other friend, Pietro was on the other end.

The DiGallo house just had another nasty argument, and lost one of their glasses during it. Ronny sweeped the shattered peices when his parents, still clouded with anger, stormed off in opposite directions.

When the closeted mutant answers the door, he only gives a tired sigh.

His friend's shoulders slump and grows worried.

Ronny shrugs it off, asks what his business is here.

Pietro rubs it off, stating that if something is happening, that he previous plans wouldn't matter. He offers for Ronny to come over if he wants a break. Or they could go get food, the movies, or the skate park.

Pietro knows about Ronny's living conditions—his parents.

Ronny sighs again. Sometimes he wishes he hadn't allowed anyone to find out.

"What's with you? Why are you PMS-ing so much lately? More than usual?" he is asked.

To be honest, Ronny doesn't mean to be moody lately, but he's felt so... _irritated_. Because there's his anxiety that's heightened due to school. There's this goddamn rash, the scale pattern trekking across his skin, the worry flashed across his doctor's face—the increased doctor's visits—and then there's his father.

Yesterday, his father threatened to kill a man. It had been over a crash of shopping carts in the store. The man looked normal and nonthreatening, albeit just as irksome and angered as Ronny's father, except for his enlarged irises.

"Goddamn, fucking _mutee_ ," his father spat. In the parking lot, he purposely, nearly ran the man over.

In the doorway, Ronny swallows. "I—-I don't—-I don't want to. Thanks though. I'm just going to stay home for the day."

Pietro peers around his friend and into the house. He's frowning, contemplating. "Is your old man home?"

Ronny shakes his head. His father took the car; he doesn't know when his father will return. Ronny didn't quite mind. He liked his mother more anyway.

"You should probably go home, Peter."

"You sure? You sure you should be staying here? I mean, right now?"

From inside the house, Pietro hears a woman's wail. His eyes widen, his mouth opens, gaze darts back up to Ronny, and suddenly he realizes how much _taller_ the other mutant has grown.

"I dont wanna talk about it," is Ronny's answer. "And I'm fine here—"

"Don't be stupid."

For a second, Ronny flares; for a rapid, quick millisecond, Ronny flares in anger. His shoulders rise and his nose flares and the hand on the door tightens and it's so out of character—because this is lazy Ronny, Ronny who would rather not get involved and to sleep the day away, Ronny who is only undisturbed and laid back—Pietro steps cautiously back.

His mouth hangs open at the start of words. He hesitates before speaking. "Ron? ...You sure you don't need anything? You're being weird."

And his friend barks a dry laugh. It's painful, and Pietro winces.

"Pete, we _are_ weird! Did you forget that? We're nothing but...it's just..." The sarcastic smile wioes clean. A hand raises to his cheek, clutches his short hair he's growing out. "We can't...I can't"

Pietro debates whether to speak or wait.

His friend struggles. Stutters and stammers. Backtracks on his words. "Sorry, Pete. Just not today. I can't today. I needed today for myself," he finally gets out.

Pietro is willful and insisting, has always been since the first day Ronny met him. The other mutant is insisting. The teen is nosey, pushing, and instigating. He is also intentive, and easily notices people's tells. He can tell when his twin has spiraled into major depression and pays her with his company and cookies with milk. He was the first to notice when Meisha began cutting her hair, which intently harmed herself, and hinted at it to her parents. He has been able to pick up when Ronny is on the verge of panic attacks. He had a sneaky suspicion that something wasn't _quite right_ with Rainy. So when he's ridiculed that he's as dense as a brick, unable to pick up the notion that _no_ meant _no_ , it's more of stubbornness and willful persuasion.

Because of this, he noticed Ronny's increasingly peculiar behavior.

As he watches his friend inwardly struggle, he understood and remembered the times in the past when solitary was required. And thus, he doesn't press his friend any longer. Because when Ronny is ready, Pietro hopes that he will speak to someone.

And thus, because Pietro is so intensive and doesn't wish to press his friend any more, he leaves Ronny to his wishes, states that he hopes everything will work out soon.

* * *

The next time Pietro sees Rainy he's standing awkwardly in her front doorway sometime on a Friday afternoon. Her slanted, cat eyes travel up and down his stature skeptically, remaining at his face as she studies him. Gauges him. He thinks she's trying to read him mind.

She had called him.

Her proposal had been about concerns, and her continuing their tutoring for subject he's lacking—both which surprised himself on agreeing to go with. However, over time it became a sort of joint study sessions—he noticed that she's slacking in math and science, and she aids with reading, writing, and anything extracurricular.

When he arrived, no car had been parked in the driveway, so they walk freely through the house. This would be the second time he's set foot inside, and he looks around like a tourist. On the bookshelf, he caches sight of a photograph of a toddler Rainy and her mother in a homemade garden; both are smiling. Rainy snaps her fingers.

The last time they had spoken was outside of school, she eating an ice-cream cone and questioning him about wanting a girlfriend or not. The thought had made his heart stutter, his steps falter, his decisions irrational.

Pietro's nose wrinkles. There is a scent lingering in the air. When asked, Rainy explains the it's incenses burned by her mother.

She invites him into her home and opens the door to her bedroom.

"I bet you've never been in a girl's room before," is her initial thought, watching him subtly gawk.

He shrugs. Reminds her that he has a sister, two in fact.

"They don't count."

His ears are growing hot. And he has a sneaking suspicion of what she may be indicating.

Around the floor of her room are articles of clothes discarded, school notebooks open and scattered about her desktop, shoes piling out of her closet, bedsheets misshapen. On the wall is a cluttered bulletin board of photographs and written notes of lined paper hung up by tacks and pushpins. Novel books are stacked in a tumbling tower on her bedside table.

"Never been in one this messy before, though." It's spoken with a tightness to his mouth.

Rainy glances around, admits that he must be right, and drops her book bag at her feet. His irritation heightens.

Instead of correcting him, she instructs that he could sit until she finds her notebook needed for the study session, hidden somewhere under the pile on her desk.

Pietro chooses to cross his arms and sit on the floor near the doorway, but falls to a discarded article of clothing instead. Pulling a black, red, and white jersey from underneath, he frowns again. He holds it up and gets her attention.

"My middle school jersey," she explains, calm and nonchalant. "I was wondering where that had gone."

"Middle school?" The size does seem way too large for a middle schooler and he could only _hope_ that it still fit. He decides not to ask. Instead, "why do you still have this from _middle school_?"

"It's a memento. From when they made it to nationals. I wore it when I began growing close to Sherry and Michelle, some friends of mine. They signed the inside tag."

Flipping the shirt inside out, he sees that there were indeed two signatures scribbled in thick, black Sharpie marker. "Oh yeah, I forgot that you had friends," he mumbles. Noticing that Rainy hears, as she's getting ready to bite back, he asks, "do you not understand the concept of treasuring your memories? You're meant to keep them inwardly, not cluttered."

She holds her hands to her chest and enthusiastically responds, obnoxiously sweetly, "my memories are always in my heart." It's sarcastic, obviously.

"That's not what I meant."

"I know. But to be honest, I remember the days quite well. All of them. Almost perfectly."

He rolls his eyes. "Are you trying to indicate that you have some kind of super memory?"

She shrugs. "I'm not saying anything."

"Well whether you are or not, it's no reason to have all this—this—" He waves his hand around, indicating the messy bedroom.

"A few days ago, we had guests over. And my dad..." She pauses, her chin lowers, turns to look to her dresser. She doesn't finish. Instead, she raises her chin higher—much higher, a false show of confidence—and she meets his stare that she gauges is judging. "My dad's been _busy_ lately. He had an interview after. So. We've had busy—full schedules. Sorry that we don't have a _maid_."

He quiets. Pietro's stare continues. And there's something in her tone, about her words that don't tick _right_.

But he doesn't ask about it, shrugs as he straightens his posture. Looks to the jersey in his hands. He asks if she could truly wear it, still.

She responds with a hand to her hip and an upward tilt to her chin. "Yes. I wore it just the other day."

It turns out to be a perfect fit—not too loose, and not a tight fit either, the end reaching beneath the curve of her backside.

"See? Told you so."

He nods, proven right.

In the spare bedroom down the hallway, a forgotten pack of cigarettes lie on the dresser, forgotten by their previous "guest." A porcelain horse figure had been stolen from their shelf in the living room as well.

Pietro offeres to transfer the small pile of clothes beside him from the floor to her wastebasket.

Rainy paws at the end of the jersey, a look of forlorn on her face. She speaks to herself but it's loud enough that he picks up, "whenever I wear this, I feel like I did back then..."

So impulsively he asks, "back then? You had feelings back then?" The choice of words makes him bite back, mentally chastising himself.

"Well, not exactly _feel_ , more like aware. Of those around, I mean. I was numb. To all of it. But I do remember Sherry's face when our team won. And Michelle shouting with the crowd... And now, looking back at it, I kind of feel how they did. I think. I wish..." Her grip looses on the end of the jersey as her face falls.

Pietro choses not to asks further. Transfers discarded clothes to the wastebasket. Underneath a sweater, he finds a novel. On the cover is a man making a shelter in the wilderness. As he begins reading the summary on the back, he becomes so engrossed that his attention _snaps_ when Rainy speaks again.

"Say, Maximoff? How do people stop becoming friends?"

The teen shrugs without looking up, focuses back on the book in his hands.

"I've seen it before—people tearing apart—and it isn't pretty. It's strenuous and stressful."

"I agree," he speaks, not truly paying full attention. He's flipped the book open, beginning to read it.

"Say, Maximoff? Do you know why people drift apart? Rather, how to bring them back together?"

The mutant nods, hearing a break in her words but paying particular attention to her words.

"How?"

He hums, still not rule listening.

Rainy waits. It's met by silence, and realizing what he's been doing, she frowns. And the next thing he knew, she's grabbing hold of his wrist. The look in her eyes intense and determined. "Maximoff, I'm serious."

And he stiffens. Part of him wants to wrench his wrist away and snap at her, insult. The other is truly curious about what she had said. He debates whether to ask, but ten that would earn him either hard looks or be thrown out of the house. If he tries to guess by context clues, if she realizes, he'll be ridiculed and then kicked out of the house. If he stays quiet, she'll chide him, her glare disappointed and so, so judging, and _then_ he'll get kicked out—

A loud growling sounds in her bedroom. Pietro identifies that it's her stomach.

"Have you eaten?" he asks, hoping that he can change the subject. But he isn't given an answer, and so he repeats, an edge to his words. "Rainy, did you eat yet?"

There's hesitation. "See...that's what I wanted to talk to you about—"

"How about you get something before you pass out on the floor. Because _I_ don't want to be the person having to explain why _you're_ passes out on the floor—mainly because I honestly won't stick around to stay. And afterwards, you can start on your room. Yeah?"

Rainy's grip on his wrists loosens.

She frowns.

 ** _. . ._**

"It's starting to look a little better," Pietro compliments.

The clothes were all picked up and books put away. Rainy's excuse was that the mess was partially caused by her constantly on the go, and partially caused by her mother—how exactly, the mutant doesn't question.

He asks if she would like to take a break. And as the good host she's trying to be, she gives the idea of studying.

Pietro scowls. "That's not exactly what I had in mind."

Of course, her response is something along the line of a reprimand of failure and falling grades and time asks for his choice.

Rolling his eyes, he counters, "you're such a bore, I _swear_. Anyways." He produces a box of cards from his back pocket. "I found these. So I thought that—"

" _Where_ did you find those," she points, and there's a raises, almost _fearful_ octaval in her tone.

Last she remembered, that box had been in her drawer for undergarments.

 ** _. . ._**

It starts over a modified game of Double Solitaire. A game of fifty questions that he proposes as a joke.

She takes it literally.

He tells that she needs to stop doing that, a slump in his posture.

Fifteen minutes uno the game Pietro isn't liking his luck.

"You're cleaning skills are pretty good. Perhaps I should make my room messy more often..."

He advises against it. "What are you trying to hint at?"

She shrugs, acting innocent. "Oh, nothing." She smirks, wets her lips, is liking the cards in her hands.

"I'm not going to come over here whenever you call like some dog. I'm not your maid."

"Of course your not; when have I ever indicated that you were?"

He mumbles something underneath his breath.

"Besides," she continues as if he hadn't spoken, "you said that we were friends, didn't you?"

She places a card on the floor. He thinks of his options. It takes five seconds.

"When did I ever say such a thing?" His ankles are crossed. He thumbs through the cluster of cards in his hands. "Friends don't call each other over to do chores."

"What kind of friends are you talking about?" There have been several times Rainy has snuck over to help Michelle or Sherry hurry and finish chores so they could go out. She tells him this. "And if I didn't, you very likely wouldn't have been over here, now would you? I'm surprised that you even committed."

He stares—glares at her over the cards in his hands. Glares because she's undeniably _right_. And he admits this in a nonchalant manner, as if it didn't irk him.

Three more cards are placed down.

"You'd make a great wife," she jokes, still about his cleanliness. "I'd almost want you as my wife."

"It would suck to be your wife."

"Then you'd marry me then?" She smirks subtly, snake-like. He isn't amused.

"Only if our positions were reversed."

Then, she outright _laughs_. "Your sister and your friend would _kill_ me!" A favorable card is slapped on top of the pile.

Pietro sneers. "You're a cheater," he grumbles sourly.

"How? It's not like I have _magic powers_."

"You know exactly how! I don't know, but you do!"

"Why?!"

"Because!"

The next questions that are asked pertain to his sister, and his relationship with her. Rainy tell that Wanda has been hanging around her friend, Michelle, and that Rainy and Wanda are surely to clash sometime and she would hear all of his secrets. It's a joke, but isn't received as one.

Meisha is brought up; Rainy asks about his opinion on the other girl, about his relationship with her. All are answered with short phrases and generalized responses—"she's fine, I guess" with lots of shrugs and "I don't know" and "I never thought about it." When she asks her next question, it's the age-old inquire about one's dating history: "have you ever had a girlfriend?"

And she could swear that he freezes and tenses up like a statue. her, on the other hand, is unbothered.

His response is a beat-around-the-bush of just giving a simple "not for a long time," or, "none," or, "no one has caught my eye, you know?"

Then the floor is opened about her.

"So. you must have a boyfriend, right? I mean, looking at your reputation?" And she asks for clarification, an eyebrow raised, head tilting, so he just puts emphasis on, "you know...because you're _you_. You're old man, at least, and all that."

"Wouldn't you like to know."

He acts nonchalant as he pulls a card from his fingers, decides again it and chooses another. "It _is_ part of this game, isn't it?" Inside, he's worrying, pulse speeding and hoping there wouldn't arise a possibility for her to get mad, storm with rage, and kick him out; he doesn't want to get kicked out. He doesn't quite know how to read Rainy anymore.

She shrugs, shoulders slumping, shakes her head, and the idea is rebuked with a simple, "none. There's no one. No one's interesting enough." She rests her curls knuckles under her cheek. "But if I find anyone, I'll let you know."

"Hm."

Four more cards are placed down.

"Hm what?" she mimics.

He drops one, two cards down. "I'm winning!"

Rainy blinks, caught off guard. Before, she had the winning hand.

"Wait...! Darn it. Rematch! Best two out of three?"

He chuckles. "That was a rare hand. Don't be mad, Juliet."

"I'm not mad—! I just—! How can you _win_ while not taking it seriously?"

"It's called not being a sore loser," he tells, indicating her sudden outburst.

She scoffs. Then, "I am not."

Rolls his eyes. "Sure."

Her stomach growling puts a stop in their small debate. Pietro reiterates the advising that she should get food. "After one more game," she begs.

They shuffle the cards in their hands. He resists the urge to peek at her hand.

She scratches near the ponytail knot in her hair, loosening her brown curls. "Maximoff?"

"What is it, Juliet?"

"We should decide on a punishment game first."

"You're certainly in a hurry to make deals with people."

"I intend to ask for a favor. I mean, I'll ask for a favor from you. A for-free pass. No strings attached. No life-devotions necessary."

"I see." He pauses. Thinks. "And what exactly are your intentions or terms and conditions with this deal? I do expect for there to be one, yes?"

A finger runs over the tops of her cards. Her slanted, cat eyes dart up to stare back at him. "Nothing. Noting at all."

"You're lying."

She giggles, "that I am."

"Ok. But mine is for you to never, _ever_ start gambling. You have a crap pokerface."

 _ **. . .**_

Pietro asked Rainy about something he's been wondering—

By the time he left that evening, the sky is growing dark and street lampposts have already been on for an hour. She tells that at least one of her parents usually returned home around this time. She advised for him to not stay.

Pietro asks Rainy what she tells her family about her sudden changes, her unanticipated laughs and unexpected reports of honest pain, about her regain of emotion and physical touch.

"I tell them it was old grief; that I've made peace with everything. But I don't think it's something I could really explain. Or _want_ to, for that matter."

"But does that work?"

"Unlike your hair, my lack of emotion had been something I could hide more, since you can rely on what others tell you."

This passed summer, Rainy had visited her grandparents on both of her parent's sides. Both had been excited for the meet, and they picked up on her immediate change, and began worrying about her, naturally. She tells him this, not thinking much of it—not thinking there is any harm to what he already knows, has seen.

"But despite everything that happened with my mother, and my grandmother," her finger reaches to rub the closed locket hanging from her neck, "there's kind of a _wall_ between us and some family members. There was a period of time we didn't have contact. When we went to visit them, only an older cousin asked. I had to make up an excuse. ...But no one else asked. I wouldn't want them to ask."

He nods, understanding.

"Either way, I only have to tolerate everything for a few more years."

In theory, it seemed plausible.

* * *

 _ **A/N: I have a new goal to close this fic. it's been forever since I updated, I know, and frankly I'm very tired and bored with this point in the fic. I know it's been forever, and I'm tired of it too. this chapter had been sitting in my drafts and was just haphazardly finished. I know, I suck. this sucks. I'm ready to bring it to a lose. I'm ready to move on. since I already have what I planned to happen for the rest of this installment as a bullet point list. so. for the next coming chapters I'll be closing this fic with short little parts that will be more than a bullet point list. but quick enough to close this.**_

 _ **if it doesn't feel or sound right, inbox me so I'll either change it or elaborate. because for the next coming chaps will not be as crappy as all those before. ugh. inbox me for questions too. my tumblr is optional too.**_

 _ **but say SOMETHING. please.**_


	9. Chapter 7: Imprudent

So.

 _Well_.

Rainy doesn't realize until _after_ arriving home that the topic to review on plausible romantic feelings and girlfriends and boyfriends had _completely_ slipped her mind. And that night she had to fight down a rising feeling of urgency and setting _dread_ of meeting with Sherry again and the possibility of seeing that always shy, mousy redheaded girl.

Meisha. Meisha is her name; Rainy forgot.

Luckily, Sherry has no idea about this matching scheme the brunette's attempting to start, lest the girl would be hovering constantly, thinking that poking her nose and her two-cents would speed up the process. Rainy has only started it influenced by something Deborah had spoken, alarmingly enough—Deborah, her father's social manager and likely side-piece. It had been when the two were left in plush, singular chairs in not-far proximity. The woman's pale arms crossed childishly, and Rainy's hands folded in her lap and refusing to make eye contact. Deborah had given verbal hints that she knew that _Rainy knows_ she has been interested in the girl's father. She spoke words about progress, about second chances, trying to be a better, nicer person, and farcical forgiveness had come from the woman's mouth. Needless to say, Rainy couldn't care less.

So, regardless—ultimately _ignoring_ the situation—she'll touch on the question next time.

So, she goes back to school, yes, but avoids her friends and eats lunch alone outside. Across the bleachers during this time, she spots a girl drawing in a sketchpad; a girl whom Rainy thinks is in the school's band. Rainy arrives to school in purple floral dresses, high-waisted jeans and Reeboks, and a pretty red bandana headband. She comes to school with a fashion sense that's obscure and surprising, opposed to her once monotone and tie-dye—a style very mimicking by Michelle. And at every end of the school day, she takes a nap—

Figuratively.

Literally.

She takes a nap, does her homework, eats. She continues to avoid Sherry, and dodge mentions of other students she knows.

However, Rainy does not have a contingency plan for Sherry Addams phoning her home to persuade the other to accompany a trip to the mall and a movie.

So that weekend, slipping into a comfortable pair of jeans and a top Michelle once complimented on her, straightened dark brown fly-aways held down by a thick purple headband, Rainy meets Sherry after almost a week of solitude.

When they arrive, there's a sale going on for juvenile uniforms and maternity clothes. The film is a sci-fy horror about aliens—shown at the theatre adjoined to the east side of the mall. It's viewed in pregnant pause, and exited as such.

Although aware that Rainy had been avoiding her but not yet going to touch upon the subject, Sherry reveals that the other's name has been floating around from the mouths of others. Particularly from the mouth of a guy. Particularly from someone she might know. Sherry tells that there is a mutual guy friend who has _suspiciously_ begun taking an interest in the brunette. For why, he refuses to say, and Sherry pokes out her bottom lip.

Unsurprisingly, the brunette makes no sign of interest.

She frowns and crosses her arms over her chest uninterested, though despite, her eyes widening in interest. "Who is it?"

Sherry gives an innocent look to the side. "I don't know, but..." She pauses for dramatic effect. Shrugs. Determines that it wouldn't hurt to tell. "You'll see when we return to school, I guess."

Rainy's eyes narrow. "You know who it is, don't you?"

Of course Sherry knows.

Rainy sighs, exaggeratedly. Knowing Sherry—bubbly, enthusiastic, exuberant Sherry—she must have already begun concocting a plan to sway the two to meet up, talk, already has a date set up, and the second one that follows.

"Sherry," Rainy begins, "you know I—-"

"I know that you don't communicate with others. _Yes_. That I already know. Known for years. Rain, you got to get out of that."

The other pauses. Stares. "That's not what I meant."

Sherry's turned to gaze into a department store advertising makeup for women. "I know what you meant," she speaks, calm and unbothered.

Beside her, Rainy pouts childishly. Noticing, her friend pulls her into an awkward side-embrace.

Ever since Rainy's sudden regain in physical touch, the flip between being anti-contact to handsy has been a sudden switch that her friends (and family even) are still gradually getting used to.

"I'm only joking!" Sherry smiles. "Kind of." Her friend gives a suspicious look, so Sherry explains. "Ok! He sits next to you in history class, and he's sat with us before at lunch. He's actually been interested in your for a while, he told me. But he didn't know if he should do anything, and asked me to talk to you about it. Because you've always been so stand-off-ish. He plays soccer too, if that helps?" There's a pause, Rainy silently judging. "This is for you! Finally a guy—who's _nice_ —wants to go out with you! And you're not as much, I don't know, _roughened attitude_ as you were before—-"

"You mean as much as a _cold, heartless bitch_ like last year?"

Sherry visibly becomes uncomfortable. She doesn't object, though.

"No. It's fine," Rainy shrugs. "Call it like it is...and as I was told. It's my tagline, you know."

Sherry purses her lips. Pauses. Shakes her head a little. "You're a bitch, yeah, but you're _my_ bitch," she smiles. "We're bitches together."

Rainy's lips poke out, move to the side in an unstraightened pout. A tiny smile begins to show.

There's a man offering perfume samples not associated with he store he's stationed in front of. Sherry waves a _no thanks_. Rainy offers the inside of her wrist for a spray. She waits until they continue walking to again ask, "who is it? The guy."

And Sherry hesitates. "Rainy, um—-"

"Have you already hooked us on a date, like last time? Or are you really, _really_ asking this time?"

The strawberry blonde's answer comes slowly. "I'm really asking."

Rainy sniffs the inside of her wrist. "Then how am I to even _know_ if I like this person if I don't know who he is? It could be Marvin the Worm sending encrypting letters again for all I know."

" _God_ it's not that worm! Ew! I thought you trusted me!" Sherry's hands wave in defense, in disgust.

Rainy shrugs, this time faking innocence.

Marvin the Worm is a not-very-favored fellow student who is not known so much for his large reading glasses, but for his obsessive nature, for smelling hair, and surprisingly, feeling the need to be in a leadership position, particularly during group assignments.

"It's Will Lopez," Sherry tells in time that she escorts her friend into a clothes department store.

But Rainy stops, registers the name, and is taken back. " _Will_?!"

"Yeah. Will who can speaks Spanish." They've stopped outside the store entrance. "Is there a problem?" Then, seeing Rainy's brow raise in disbelief, Sherry asks, "can you not speak Spanish?"

"You know I can't! But that's not the issue—-" Her sentence abruptly cuts off, unable to think of words to express herself clearly.

"...Do you _not_ like him?"

Rainy crosses her arms, chin lowering. Before she can answer, Sherry questions more.

"Or do you like someone else...?"

She looks up, a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

"Well you can't hate me for asking!"

"I just don't know Will _—_ not that well, I don't," Rainy explains to which the other adds " _well that's why I'm setting this up."_ Rainy shakes her head, tilts slightly to the right. In honesty, she can only recall having a conversation that surpassed classwork or soccer on a total of three accounts, maybe one a year. "We never really talked, and...I'm unsure..."

"About?"

"Everything. He's not exactly," she makes a vague, wild gesture with her hands, " _you know_."

Sherry's brows draw together. "What?"

Rainy shakes her head in dismiss.

"You've been acting different. Don't get me wrong, it's good, but it's still a bit...weird."

"Things happen." Shrugs. "People change, I guess."

A young couple pushing a baby stroller hurries past, the baby wailing in the arms of the mother. There's a candy shop that captures Rainy's attention. The pink bow in Sherry's hair sparkles under the lightening as she turns, following her friend's gaze.

"Speaking of," she begins. Pauses. Hesitates. Waits. "I _—_ I saw _—_ I've been meaning to ask you, Rainy?" The other makes a noise of acknowledgement, gripping the edge of her shirt, contemplating to top at the shop or not. Not exactly certain still, Sherry decides to blurt aloud and sudden, "I saw a guy leaving your house the night I came over when we had that sleep over. When your dad had that huge, loud phone meeting. Your mom made those really good chocolate chip brownies."

Rainy, having gone cold and still, doesn't speak. She doesn't turn around. Her hands still in a tight grip on her shirt, heart pounding. The feeling she's able to put a finger on is like a rush of fear, a rush of adrenaline, suspicion.

"That guy. The weird one _,_ with the hair. Peter-whoever. I saw him climb out your window when your dad came home."

Still, Rainy doesn't meet the other's eye, doesn't say a thing.

"I'm not _judging_ ," then in a low whisper, "much." Sherry inhales, voice raising back to normal volume. " _But_ I am curious _—_ "

"You hungry?" Rainy asks as they enter the food court. Without waiting for an answer, she walks to a pizza joint, ignoring Sherry's calls, and orders two slices of pepperoni pizza.

Sighing, but feeling the clawing of hunger, Sherry places an order. As the two take a seat in an empty both, Sherry is fiddling with her clutch. "I'm not trying to be mean."

"I know." Rainy still doesn't look her way.

"Then why don't you look at me?"

And with a huff and sloping brows, the brunette turns. Her arms are folded atop the table, and she does in fact appear upset.

Leaning back in the seat, Sherry notes, "you _are_ mad _—_ "

"No, I'm _—_ "

"I'm just worried. For you. Ok?" This strikes the other, surprised. "I didn't tell you because..." she searches for a reason. Can't find one. "I don't know. But I thought I was just assuming wrong. You know? But I talked to him..." At this, Rainy's face stiffens. "And he said weird things. About you. Things that I wasn't expecting someone like him to _know_...things that _I_ didn't even know, and I'm your best friend."

Rainy studies the other. She remains quiet.

"And _—_ I don't know. But I have to ask: do you like _him!?_ I mean, him?"

The brunette doesn't give an answer right away because her nose scrunches, her lips part, and she takes on a mixture of astonish and distaste.

Sherry's hands fly up in defense. "Look, you can't blame me for asking!"

"Why would you think _—_ suspect such a _—_!"

"It just seemed weird, that's all."

"What's weird about it? He comes over. We study. He goes home. There's nothing weird about it." It's spoken in such an assured, study way that Sherry truly begins questioning this—begins questioning Rainy even. She grows curious, wondering if their sudden boom in familiarity is truly from only studying, but she doesn't say.

"It's weird because what happened with him. You know. Last year, him and Mckenzie—"

Rainy cuts are off. "What happened with Mckenzie wasn't anything a part of our—"

"He slept with Mckenzie," Sherry continues as if Rainy hadn't spoken. "Got with her. Third base. Whatever. Remember, _that's_ why she doesn't go to this school anymore. After, Clarice _blew up_. We both know she's a devious snake, but that was ridiculous."

In honesty, Rainy had forgotten about the incident and the rumors. Indulged in her own dire conflicts, the memories had floated to the back of her mind over summer break. But this, this reminder created a pause in her thoughts, a train of second guesses and new suspicions to form in her mind.

A young man approaches from behind the counter, bring the girls' orders. Sherry smiles in thanks. Rainy doesn't attempt to mask her mood.

"Nothing's gonna happen," she assures, pouring ketchup on her side of french fries.

"Ok. But don't blame me for asking. I don't want Clarice to do anything like that to you."

"I know she's evil, but I don't need you to protect me." She bites half of a fry.

Sherry nods. "Yeah." Blows on her mozzarella sticks. "If you do ever start liking him, tell me first. Ok?"

And Rainy isn't judging, or anything, but she kind of _side-eyes_ the girl at that statement.

* * *

Meisha is told that her uncle is coming to visit. A uncle she hasn't seen in over a year. One of the who shows up at family barbecues and invited holidays in v-neck shirts and running shorts, deep purple blazers over striped turtlenecks, who too doesn't like trimming his hair. One of those who always say "I remember you when you were _this_ little!"

He's a part of the local Nevada criminal investigation force, her mother tells. He's very smart. That she's noticed the difficult _changes_ Meisha has been going through, and her uncle is the best she could think of to ask. Meaning, he's coming to visit as both a vacation and to help his _favorite niece_. Because Meisha and her uncle have more uncommon than she may think, the young mutant is told.

He's tall, willowy, and has mousy brown hair down to his shoulders. The other school kids used to call him Snake Eyes.

Meisha is told that he's coming in a few days.

* * *

The concert with Michelle happened last weekend.

At first, Marya hadn't wanted Wanda to go—grilling the girl about these newfound friends, whether they were the ones who pressured her into doing that mascot incident (which they weren't), if they were troubled kids who have gotten in trouble with the law before (which they hadn't). Wanda tells that she's going with a girl named Michelle White and two others. They were to meet up with a few more friends at a local McDonald's before going.

After halfhearted promises to being _safe and careful and mindful_ are made, Wanda is driven to the aforementioned McDonald's meeting place. However, the mutant doesn't know that Janae, who was the one pressured Wanda, had unwontedly tagged along, and is sitting at Michelle's other elbow inside the restaurant booth.

The concert is a musical performance of artists like Michael Jackson and Prince. Despite Janae, Wanda enjoys her time. A few of Michelle's others friends also started warming up to the pale Transian girl.

* * *

The next time Pietro and Rainy meet together is at her home that following Thursday afternoon before an important history exam.

They are sitting at her kitchen table. A wicker bowl of green apples and unripened bananas sits as the center piece. A pencil waves between Rainy's fingers as she concentrates. Every once in a while, Pietro looks up as if he's expecting her to, as if he's trying to meet her gaze in that one split second.

"It's difficult to study when someone's staring at you, know."

He stiffens.

"In any case," she continues, "teaching a person to study is really difficult."

He grumbles.

Rainy's pencil momentarily lifts from hr page, bobs in her hand. She solves a homework question in her head. She feels Pietro's glances on her once more, so she sighs, stops.

The light overhead bears down. His gaze darts back to his textbook.

Then, she speaks again. "Do you think that the idea of wearing all white could possibly bring one closer to purity?"

He hesitates. "What kind of question is that?" He's already becoming suspicious, mentally analyzing every piece and syllable of her sentences.

As an answer, Rainy shrugs nonchalantly. "Alternatively, what about the cleansing of the soul?"

He shrugs. "I don't know."

"Or about the concept of virginity?"

And at that, he _freezes_. Tongue caught in his throat, and eyes _widening_. He's lucky that she's still focused on her schoolwork.

It takes him no longer that three seconds to utter a coherent response. "Don't know. W-why? Why do you ask?"

Her let cheek rests on a fist. "I got to thinking. About last year with The Wish Granter. He instructed us to wear _pure_ clothes." She looks up as she asks, "you remember?"

He swallows, calmer. "Yes. I do. He was a creep. Really creepy."

A tiny, amused grin shows. Then, seeming unrelated to the conversation, "I know about you and Mckenzie."

And this time, he _barely_ holds his composure as she meets his fretful, guilty stare. His expression must have cracked, because hers changes. Closes up. Shoulders roll and chin dipping back to her notes.

"I know. About what happened at Clarice's house party. Like, _really know_ now. Sherry told me. This passed weekend. Oh, don't worry. I won't tell," she gives. "And I won't judge... _Much_." She mutters that last word.

His chest is constricted by vice-like tight wire and his pulse is increasing, increasing, _rushing_. This was the one thing— _the one thing_ —he never would want her to find out, to know in detail. For whatever reason, Pietro had been so relieved when the gossip died and the side-eyes, subliminal scowls lessened.

He guessed that he had been afraid that her response would be negative. And he guessed that it would hinder, if not completely destroy, these study sessions. Because his grades have actually improved, and Marya is starting to show a relaxing in the worry-lines on her face.

"Do you like her?"

He blinks, floating down from his mental over-scare. He can't give an honest, coherent sentence.

"Well, _did_ you like her?"

He says that he doesn't know, trying and failing to appear apathetic.

Rainy nods in understanding. Goes back to writing notes. "Sherry doesn't trust you. She thinks you're a bad influence. Just a philanderer."

"Who's Sherry?"

"A friend of mine," she dismisses. "And she's totally judging. Called you agitator too."

"That's funny because my sister thinks the same thing."

They laugh it away.

She asks him again about his past feelings regarding the now-rejected popular queen. And not able thinking coherently, and wanting the conversation to be over, he blurts that Mckenzie had been cute, yes, and that he was interested in her, but feelings—

The feelings part was tricky.

Silently, Rainy judges him as well. _Hard_.

* * *

Rainy's father returns home after a three day political meeting. It's the girl's mother who awakes in the night, having fallen asleep on the living room sofa. She's wrapped in a silk house robe, fuzzy house slippers, and hair in a half-frizz from rubbing against the sofa fabric. The television was left on. She had been waiting for him. He said he was going to be back a day ago. He has no excuse for his tardy.

Donna Capulet greeted him with an immediate hug, jumping from the sofa. He's still in a suit, tie undone.

It's nearly four in the morning. Their daughter fast asleep; it's a school night.

Donna's husband doesn't give an excuse for his tardy—but he doesn't have to. Because she notices the sickly sweet fragrance in his clothes, and remanence of perfume and apples in her crook of his neck, and she's pulling away, retracting again and into herself. No words are spoken. The sitcom couple on screen are coincidentally scolding their son about the importance of family and _trust_.

Donna pulls her robe tighter around herself. Runs a hand through her manually straightened hair, turns off the television. She doesn't speak; her only reaction is walking out of the living room, leaving him alone, suitcase still in hand, and retreats to their shared bedroom, feeling like she's wasted her hours tonight waiting. The light left on above the kitchen stove is the only light that illuminates the small house. He doesn't call after her either.

In fact, they don't say anything.

 _ **. . .**_

Rainy finds her father asleep on the living room sofa once again. She doesn't speak on it. She already knows.

She's had her suspicions for almost two years now.

* * *

One of the unknown characteristics about Meisha is that she is territorial. Very territorial. It's a characteristic that is hidden, greatly shielded under a veil of self-consciousness and social insecurity. It isn't shown because, well, there haven't been much she is protective over. And because she's so socially awkward that she usually isn't questioned—not like she would likely speak up either, which she doesn't.

But when she, Ronny, and Pietro get together for a friendly outing finally, that part of her beings to arise, slowly but surely. It's after something Pietro says.

It starts as a comment in passing. Nothing important, nothing significant. It had been about that bitch, Rainy—Juliet— _whoever_. It was in a comment said in answer to Ronny's questioning about where the fast mutant had been for the past several days. He had been at Rainy's Pietro tells—for studying, yes, (which Ronny gives a wolf whistle in joking) but for the passing of time.

Still, he hasn't told either of his friends about the incident at the traveling carnival last school. He doesn't tell about the stomach-curling interview he had with her in regarding Mckenzie, or her suspicious silence afterwards. He doesn't tell anything unless what he has to. He's secretive like that, yes, but still.

Pietro doesn't say anything unless he has to. Most of the time it's very little.

And because of this, Meisha begins to boil.

* * *

 ** _A/N: i don't like leaving things unfinished if it can be helped. there is a four day weekend, a new semester just started, so i'm going to try to wrap this fic up, if i don't get distracted. i'm not counting for anyone to be into this still because even i'm not anymore. this chapter wasn't given an edit, so if there are typos and if it sucks, that's why. i didn't fact-check either. the next several chapters (like, two or three, maybe?) will be short sections like the ones in here._**

 ** _(also fair warning, i favor aaron taylor-johnson's quicksilver, always have, and that's who i envision when writing. but that's me. Speaking of age of ultron-_**


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N: the last time this had been updated was September 1, 2017**_

 _ **wow...**_

 _ **ok. so. it's going to be 2018, and this fic has gone on for long enough. i'm tired, you're likely tired, and to be honest i've moved on from this. i don't want to carry this unfinished fic over into the new year. but i do not want to leave this unfinished and i at least want the ending to be known. all those who have reviewed and have bene following deserve that. Lyra deserves to know as well.**_

 _ **So, the "chapter" below is what had been written as the next update, but i never finished it, so please excuse it's abruptness.**_

 ** _Following, the next "chapter" will be a bullet point list about what had bene planned to be the next few chapters of Touch, it's sequel "Broken" that was to take place_ _between_ _Touch and Age Of Ultron, and it's untitled final_** ** _installment._**

* * *

Meisha is told that she has an uncle who is "more like her, in more ways than she thinks." He's a tall, lanky man with hair that' mousy brown and reaching down to his shoulders, pinned back by bobby pins. There's a thin silver chain hanging around his neck. His shoes shiny penny loafers, suits cotton, and gives a boyish smile as he outreaches his hand in introduction. He tells that he still remembers her when she was tiny, a baby. Meisha accepts his hand, and he quickly pulls her in a bear hug. She gets a silent, violent impulse to push away and slash her nails. Meisha keeps still instead.

Her uncle, Spencer, apologizes that he's been away because of work, but that her mother has kept him updated on Meisha's growth.

The teen asks why she hasn't heard from him. Her mother reminds that Spencer is the one who send cards and little trinkets every Christmas and birthday, who got her mother's favorite pearl necklace that she never takes off.

Spencer stands back, awkward and modest, hands behind his back.

Her mother leaves them to get acquainted with one another, gone to tend to the rotisserie chicken cooking.

The teen stares at the man before her. He tells that her mother—his sister—told him over the phone that Meisha has been having _particular troubles_. And of course, she's skeptical, responding with her eyes squinting, a wrinkle in her nose. In her head, she's convinced herself that she shouldn't trust this man.

Her uncle—Spencer, looks her over; he smiles, and there's something in his eyes that makes her shift in her seat, that makes her slightly more defensive, which makes her uneasy.

His smile is calm and small as he asks, "you have it too?" It's more of a statement than a proper question.

Of course she doesn't know what he means, picking at the cuticles around her fingernails as she asks such.

And in a calming voice, he reveals that for his vacation from work, her mother called him to help her gain control over her powers. Meisha doesn't know why she's very surprised.

She refuses. It isn't her who snaps, loudly and violently.

Her uncle stays calm.

"When you want to talk— _talk to me_ —I'll be here," he entices just as her mother returns to the living room. And he shrugs her off, telling that the trouble was only teenage mood swings. He grins.

* * *

The next time the Maximoff twins meet each other, it's quiet. Pietro knows where she's been out to, and turns away an eye at the band around her wrist, a faded X over the back of her hand, and the residue of paint on her cheek. Wanda doesn't give a smart-ass remark about his shenanigans, his misadventures with That Bitch Juliet.

The twins turn a blind eye, neither jibbing or denouncing each other.

In fact, they don't speak of it at all.

That night, Wanda goes to bed happier, her fingertips glowing a faint purple-red and tossing under her covers.

* * *

Two weeks later, one of Pietro's friends, Ronny, actual catches some kind of sickness, as he's told - which is surprising that it isn't faked this time. Meisha has gone M.I.A. avoiding both her old and newer friends. Pietro doesn't questions it.

* * *

His friends are flakes—but it's not like he's much better.

His sister doesn't want anything to do with him. That much he already knows.

In school, no one wants to deal with him—which he's quite used to. The only person who seems to spend time with him is a girl whom he once swore to never speak to, who was akin to a splinter in his big toe, an irrigation underneath his fingernails, whom he never wanted to interact with. Whom he never thought he would ever interact with. Who he has joked about more times than he can count, making quips that compare her to all things dark and bitter.

And still—

On that Monday afternoon after school, ten minutes late for their study session, Pietro arrives at Rainy Capulet's front door. Scuffed sneaker tapping against the porch concrete, book bag slung over his shoulder, and making sure his face holds a look of boredom and altruism.

Unexpected, her mother answers the door—a tall, light skinned woman with her frizzy hair tied upon a messy bun. Her face splits into a smile thats all too practiced. She invites the teen inside; she tells that her husband is at work, that her daughter informed her that there is to be a guest over. Pietro gives a forced, closed-mouth grin in return.

Mrs. Capulet gives directions to Rainy's room. He holds his tongue before revealing that he's already familiar. The woman leaves to return to the backyard where she tends to a small garden, and Pietro mistaking her directions as an invitation to leave.

As Pietro stands in the middle of the bedroom, he can't help but feel a little awkward. Bag strap digging into his shoulder, he remembers when he was hear last—helping her clean—and the time before, on the night of Rainy getting her curse lifted, and there's a noticeable difference. He can't pinpoint it, but there's something about the rearrangement, the more polaroid pictures hanging on her walls, the lack of noticeable tie-dye clothing in her closet, the growing collection of earrings piling on her dresser—that, and that the occupant is not here—

He picks up on the sound of running water right before it cuts off. Pietro's frozen in place, doing nothing but panic as he looks around frantically, hears Mrs. Capulet return in the house, and he _panics_.

The bathroom door opens.

"I've finished taking a shower," is her greeting, stepping in the doorway of her bedroom, holding the beige towel around herself.

Pietro freezes. He's panicking.

Her curly hair is wet and olive oil applied after, dripping.

* * *

 ** _A/N: the ending to this was planned to be Rainy and Pietro have a sort of_** ** _heart-to-heart, and she offer to help tutoring him in other ways - about helping teach him tactics and tricks to concentrate better and to hopefully, do better in school, and notices how he's always hyperactive and always on the go; she offers to help him "gain control" in whatever best way she can. He takes the offer, trying not to account it too quickly or enthusiastically._**


	11. Chapter 11

_**For the rest of Touch, this is what was planned to happen. Each bullet point is a different chapter:**_

● Rainy begins secretly contemplates about Pietro among other things—her family, her mother and her issues, her friends and who she can trust, the regaining of emotion and getting reacquainted with them and trying to navigate them. The whole chapter was to be, at least partially dedicated to her point of view about these things.

The following part of that chapter, which was to be titled "MILF", was to be a flashback about Rainy first catching her mother in bed with another man—it had been unintentional and innocent when she had been about to enter middle school. Rainy keeps it as a secret, doesn't speak about the incident to anyone or even he mother. It's scarred her, and since, she's never known what to think of her parents, never personally knowing what was the _appropriate_ way families were to be but knowing that hers wasn't it. That it would probably never be.

● The following chapter was to be about Pietro telling Meisha and Ronny about Rainy, their study appointments, and more recently, the add-on for her to provide techniques for him to control and concentrate more—he tells, and knows it's dangerous because she could find out that he's a mutant, but simultaneously intrigued and amused about what "so called" techniques she could have read in a book that could help him synchronize with normal people's time. The next part of the chapter was to be about Rainy joining Sherry again who begins teaching the other attempts to flirt, Rainy failing, and while taking a break at a food joint Sherry is offered a job at the mall. She immediately takes it.

● Pietro is planning to steal again while Mayra is out. His littlest sister is annoying him by threatening to blackmailing to tell Mayra if he doesn't play with her and get her something to eat. Pietro attempts to brush her off, advising to go talk to Wanda instead, but his sister isn't budging. The phone rings and she answers. She tells Pietro that there's a girl on the phone asking for him, and then begins teasing by asking if it's his girlfriend. He denies, of course. His little sister begins bombarding questions as he tries to take the house phone—"who is she?" and "is she nice?" and "is she pretty? does she like dolls?" and "i hope she's nicer than you" and "can i meet her?"—and when he does get the house phone from her, attempts to shield her voice from being heard in the receiver. Over the phone, plans are made to meet Rainy somewhere. Meanwhile, in a brief section, Sherry meets a future date at mall who she met while at her new job.

It was planned for Rainy to ask Pietro, during their get-together, if he still likes Mckenzie. Then, she asks, "if I died now, how quickly would you forget me?" Pietro brushes her off, snapping to not talk about death so idly.

There was to be line break, and then a pov from Wanda and her improvement with making friends, and catching her twin finally return home, late.

Another line break; Rainy's taken to the hospital because she's bleeding and the cut doesn't heal. It happens soon after she arrives home following her and Pietro's departure for the eventing and she arriving home. She remembers just how painful pain can be. Pietro immediately notices Rainy's absence from school that next day. His littlest sister asks about _the girl on the phone_ ; he tells that the girl is at the hospital (which he finds out by eavesdropping). She asks if _the girl_ is going to be ok. Pietro thinks, 'I sure hope so.' He's asked, "do you like her?"

● When Rainy returns to school, during conversation she speaks, "you talk too fast." Pietro tells that he plans on stealing school mascot head in a sort of revenge/evening out for the situation Wanda caused. Then, it was planned for a line break and the chapter to jump to a bike ride with Rainy (it's her bike) and dares him to ride it in a way to trick him and tis be a way to control himself by not pedaling too fast. As added measure, Rainy sits in basket. Pietro is unsure, knowing how fast he can go on foot and doesn't want anything bad to happen. She threatens that if he doesn't learn to pedal slowly, they'll crash. Unintentionally, he pedals down what he hadn't known was a hill and going too fast. They end up crashing into a duck pond, the bike bent, but both only having scrapes and bruises.

● This chapter had been planned to be mainly about other characters: Meisha tries to convince herself that she's in control, but she isn't, truly, and starts crying. Her uncle is there, who is also a mutant in hiding and has the same mutation as she, urges her to "let go and stay calm. It all will be good. I promise." His mutation—his _second voice_ —is something he had grown able to control through the years by doing what he's advising her. Meisha doesn't know it, but because he has more control over his, he's nearly as powerful as she, if not more entirely. Because while wild rage is dangerous, a controlled threat is even more because then they can think, calculate, and plan your demise.

It jumps to Ronny, and his interactions with his parents. His father bought Ronny's lie about his emerging mutation only being a rash, and Ronny is taken to the doctor, but fakes that he has a stomach flu by puking in the bathroom and getting out of the inspection about his skin. Ronny is still high-strung.

Wanda sits with Michelle and her new friends. It's pointed out by a sexist and racist classmate how Wanda is hanging out with those "redundants" who are "lesser than her." Wanda sticks up for them with an unsteady voice and with red flashing in her eyes.

Mid-semester exams are approaching. Rainy is asked to watch store where Sherry works for a few hours. Wanda is offered caffeine pills so she can concentrate studying, ignoring the warning of damaging health if she takes too many at once, because she wants to impress and also concentrate for studying and she ends up take a _few more_ than she needed and stays up for three days straight. She notices how her twin brother is becoming increasingly more interested and invested with Rainy Capulet, who Wanda has only started warming up to through his retelling of events. (She still doesn't know about Rainy's curse, that being the one thing he doesn't tell. Because he and Wanda are close and know nearly everything about each other.) During her caffeine high one day at school, she's approached and asked to join a friend from her new-found group to accompany them while working a session for the school radio.

● Meisha somehow gets to walk a little ways with Rainy after school. There are signs of hostility and passive aggressiveness (and a little jealousy, honestly) towards Rainy. Pietro ends up "saving" Rainy from Meisha, and advises "don't worry about her." Rainy admits that she had found it amusing and quite interesting in Meisha's interaction because not many come at her without beating around the bush much. Pietro blushes. Rainy doesn't catch it. As time goes by, he begins to work on slowing down. One day, he's leaning back, tempting the idea to "have to learn to slow down and enjoy time. build up your stamina," as Rainy joked once.

Meanwhile, Meisha has a blackout while with her uncle and he's trying to teach her control over her powers. She awakes to her uncle standing over her and a slight frown to his face. He claims that nothing serious had happened during her blackout but Meisha has a strong belief that something had.

Wanda begins working at school radio station alongside her friend. It takes a few tries but she eventually gains a knack for it and grows comfortable. Wanda now has _her own thing_ and niche in high school.

Sherry offers Rainy to start working at mall. Sherry puts in a good word and soon her friend is offered a job alongside Sherry.

Meisha has a nightmare. It's during a blackout. To her, it's a dream about her fear if she were to ever get "loose," her _second voice_ taking control. In reality, it had been true, and her uncle watched from the background to make sure that nothing grave happened to his niece.

● The incident that happens at the ice hockey rink mentioned in the fic Muscle Memory: Rainy asking Pietro to come join her and a friend, it turning out that he's partially needed to pick the locks to the closed skating rink. The other part had been, as Rainy said, "if i didn't want your o be here, then i wouldn't have asked you to come." They're there with Sherry and her current beau who she's head over heels for and who is an expert at ice skating. It turns out, that despite all his bravado, Pietro cannot skate to save his life, and falls many, many times. Rainy and Sherry aren't any better; they stay with their guests, Sherry being taught how to skate, and Rainy and Pietro trying not to fall any more. Hours pass with laughter. During one fall when Pietro accidentally pulls Rainy down with him and she tries to help him up, _something_ happens and the air thickness and his stomach grows uneasy, and—and he and Rainy almost kiss. Well, not really—it was the illusion of faces inching close, which had really just been him, and disrupted when she asked "what are you doing?" The trip to the hockey rink ends quickly and abruptly when someone enters—a janitor, the owner, they never find out because they all rush out and eventually go home, but not before having a mini panic because Rainy lost an earring there.

Ronny gets sicker, goes missing for a few days. When found, he has very visible, very obvious skin-colored scales that are not able to be concealed.

● Charles Xavier, Logan, Hank McCoy come over and visit the Maximoff household like in X-Men: Days of Future Past and like in the original prologue in Instigator (the first installment to the series). Pietro contemplates about helping them. He eventually phones them to agree to go to the Pentagon.

Sherry insists Rainy is starting to like Pietro because most of her stories involve him. Rainy scoffs, disbelieving. She pieces together his peculiarness and realizes that he's a mutant, but she keeps it to herself as a secret.

Michelle and Wanda are very close friends. Wanda has earned and is near of securing a spot in Michelle's friend group.

Meisha too is missing. Pietro notices. When he phones Ronny to ask if the other has any knowledge of their old friend's whereabouts, Ronny does not answer even after several calls.

● Rainy phones Pietro due to a rearrangement of their scheduled study sessions; her parents aren't home, so there will be less awkward tension and snooping eyes. Says over the phone that she needs help with bandages—and will later verbally, calmly admit that it had been a lie to persuade him to come over. Though he threatens to leave, he doesn't. It goes normal like it always done. However, remember Xavier's visit, Pietro takes the opportunity when she briefly leaves to the bathroom to break into the office of Rainy's father and steal the files that give the whereabouts of local mutants.

Meisha blackout again. This time, her uncle doesn't stop her when she pounces on a lone trucker at an empty gas station.

● The following day, Rainy's father holds a meeting about his running as mayor, and finds that the files containing local mutants, many of those incarcerated, is missing. He only alerts his wife.

After the event at the Pentagon and before he has to return the rental car, Pietro shows the car off to Rainy in an _I told you so_ kind of boast. After much persuading, she rides with him to the car rental, but en route, he's such a bad driver and speeding so much that she vows, verbally, to never ever get in a car with him again. Especially when he's driving.

● The following chapter was to be one about Ronny, told through his point of view. He's no longer able to disguise his mutations. He can not control his camouflage, has scales on the back of his hand that are hardening. He contemplates about running away, terrified to the bone about his parents finding out and the possibility of his father putting a bullet through Ronny's head, as he's boasted before.

● There was to be a chapter containing Pietro and Rainy's almost-first kiss, that mainly contained high tension and her admitting that knows that he's a mutant. It's posted in the next "chapter"


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/N: Keep in mind that this was written when Instigator was still being written, so it was really early on. This also has length.**_

* * *

"I hope there's a good explanation for this," she retorted, watching her step as she descended into what she had expected to be the basement.

He huffed. "Will you just sit down and stop being so snidey."

She looked up and he was no longer in front of her descending the stairs, but now seated at a red patterned couch, already in the room. He was smiling smugly up at her.

"You're taking _forever!_ "

She narrowed her eyes at him, contemplating. She paused on the steps purposely just to annoy him.

 _She couldn't understand why he was so impatient..._

It worked and he was immediately frowning.

"Rainy, I swear to GOD..." he threatened.

She continued her descent, jumping the last stair—it looked like it would break under any more pressure and didn't want to be the unfortunate soul who'd fall prey to it. "These steps look like they'll give away any second," she explained.

"You're not gonna fall," he answered quickly. Well, at least he wouldn't, he was almost sure. He watched as she stopped, looking around his room.

There were things _everywhere_ , so much that itcould even be used to host a party for _days_. A Ping-Pong table, empty soda bottles he must have forgotten, an entire bowling set equipped with actual pins and a ball sat somewhere off in the corner—these were just a few she immediately saw. Several traffic lights caught her eye and she thought it ironic for it to be a _WALK, DON'T_ WALK and _CAUTION_ sign. There was an entire Pepsi dispenser in one corner and an arcade game in another; the wall in the back was all shelves of books and other knickknacks filling the spaces.

 _'So he DOES read,'_ she thought to herself.

Needless to say, he had _many_ things.

Then her eyes landed on the three obviously stolen televisions, still with price tags. And the entire wall behind it dedicated solely to Twinkies and Ho-Ho snacks.

 _'So THAT explains why he's like this..?'_ She quickly cancelled out the thought. That would have been her explanation when they first met but not so much anymore.

He caught her gaze. "Oh you want something?" He was talking quickly again.

She glances from the wall and back to him and saw he was now holding two different Little Debbie snacks. She shook her head, still with a frown on her face.

He frowned now, too. "Good 'cause I wasn't gonna give you one anyway," he mumbled to himself.

 _Black scene._

It was a relatively normal looking house on the outside.

Upon her arrival, Rainy had been worried that it was the wrong house and her stomach hadn't given her much support. It had been churning uncomfortably again; and she had clutched her bag tighter to her shoulder. She had noted the name on the mailbox and knew this was the right residence. The odd scorch marks on the front mat hadn't gone unnoticed either.

Moments after knocking, a young girl in a pink dress had answered the door until a middle-aged woman had came up behind her. The woman—who she guessed was the mother—had looked her over before questioning her business here, and after concluding it the right house, she said she was told to come her.

Rainy had suspected that the look was because of the boots she was wearing...or maybe it was because she had blonde highlights in her light brown hair, as some elders had commented about...or that her hair wasn't pinned in the right way like she had thought. She suspected it was the first.

Upon opening the front door for her, the woman turned, hollered into the house; another voice from inside answered. Somewhere inside, a door slammed open and shut.

"...It's just around the corner down the stairs," she was told and had done as she was instructed. And was immediately met by Pietro's bright face, his usual, "what took you so long," her greeting.

BASEMENT

He sat up. "Come sit down," he patted the empty cushion next to him. He smiled.

She didn't. Rainy glanced at the glowing lights above his head.

DON'T WALK

CAUTION

"I'd rather not."

She crossed her arms.

He sighed.

"Now what is it that you wanted me to come all the way down here for?"

He perked back up. "There's something I want to show you," he jumped to his feet. He ran his fingers across his lips, glancing around the room. "Now where did I put it again...?" he mumbled.

"You can't remember what it is you wanted me here for?" She was losing patience.

"Sit down. I can't think when you're standing there."

She rolled her eyes, going to stand near the opposite arm of the couch. The quicker he remembered whatever it was, the quicker she'd be out of here. She didn't think her stomach could take much more. It was knotting _way_ too much...

He checked in a shoebox next to his television but it was empty save for a few dollar bill wads.

He looked at her. "What are you doing?"

She didn't look up. "On my phone. What else?"

His grey brows furrowed.

Sometime between him shuffling thru the bookshelves and peeking inside boxes, and her concentrating on out her cellphone, he had came behind her and pulled her down to the couch by the shoulders.

She had made a sound of surprise for the short time she had let her guard down. Now she sat with her hands on her knees, staring ahead at nothing in particular.

Behind her, he dashed from wall to wall for where he put his things, opening and closing drawers. He did finally find what he was looking for; it only took him 4.68 seconds too long to find it. The low zipping noises behind her went unnoticed.

YELLOW LIGHT

"Hey, you wouldn't guess what happened last week!" She could hear the smile in his voice.

"Hmm?" She looked over her shoulder at him.

He had then turned, but seeing the look on her face, had dipped his head and turned away instead. He willed the heat on his face away and forced on a smile instead. "I went to the Pentagon!"

Her brows rose. She no longer wore her usual impassive gaze. "How'd you get all the way to D.C.?"

"Uh, we drove. Duh."

CAUTION

She fingered her knees antsy. There was a Band-Aid under her left knee. She wore shorts and a long shirt, a large brown belt around her waist. It had been the same outfit she wore when they talked at the park.

"Well, actually—don't tell anyone this— _ANYONE—_ actually we snuck inside the Pentagon."

Her eyes enlarged. She knew he was a troublemaker because of his energy, but _this_..!? "The Pentagon...?!"

"Yup," he smiled. "I had to break this guy out of there. You must've seen him. That crazy dude who can bend metal and stuff? He made this huge speech and it was all over TV and the news," his words ran together in excitement.

She _had_ seen it. But still— _The Pentagon_!?

Then he paused. Taking in what he had just said, he understood why she had gone quiet.

"I don't believe you."

-Well, it DID sound quite ridiculous..

"For someone to have made it into the Pentagon—and as deep inside it as you're indicating—they would have to be invisible to get inside or be in jail right now."

Well, he couldn't turn invisible, but...

He turned around. "It's true!"

She crossed her arms over her waist. She watched his expression change from his eyes widening to looking very calculating.

"I can prove it—look!" He walked over, took something from a shelf and placed a cap on her head. It slid over her eyes. By the time she had lifted it, he was on the other side of the room rapidly tapping his foot at her, his arms folded.

Her stomach flipped.

She took the hat off and turned it around. It read _Pentagon Security_ clearly on the front on a sown badge symbol.

She pursed her lips.

"See?"

She paused. "Well, I suppose so." She fingered a stitching at the top. "But I'm sure they sell hats at the gift store as well. But either way, it's cute."

 _CUTE?!_ he fumed. "I stole this right off the head of one of the guards there, ya know! They were about to shoot us!"

"And how exactly could you have possibly done that?" her eyes rolled to him.

He paused.

 _BING!_

 _Ah $# &% !_

He cursed himself. He really needed to learn to think quicker than he spoke.

"Doesn't matter," he answered rapidly.

"Then why are you speaking so fast?"

"Fast? I'm not speaking fast why would you think I'm speakingfast, fastiswhatIdoIcan'thelpit."

She raised a brow, daring him to oppose.

He groaned. She knew he was lying.

LIE

Yes, she knew that he was a fast person, but she always liked to use that mind trick against him whenever she caught him in a lie.

Rainy smiled wickedly to herself seeing him turn away and trudge back to one of his bookshelves. But then her smirk vanished watching as he shuffled thru slumped books and things.

For the first time, she looked at him not searching for signs of ill intentions. For the first time as she watched him, she felt fully comfortable around him. And it was an odd feeling. She watched as he rustled thru his things and noticed for the first time the navy blue shirt he was wearing. Hands still on her crossed knees, her gaze unintentionally lingered on his shoulders in particular. Her grip unconsciously tightened.

Rainy sucked in a breath. She didn't know if this was just herself coping with her STILL unsettling stomach or that she was truly growing sick and delusional.

He glanced over at her, immediately calling, "don't look!"

Rainy did as she was told and turned back ahead without a remark, for once, to bothered by her stomach to do much. She looked up at a traffic light in front of her. Ironically, the _CAUTION_ light was off behind her head.

Yup, she was definitely growing delusional.

GREEN LIGHT

WALK

"Here," he spoke.

She jumped seeing his hands suddenly appear around her neck. She looked down noticing, how for the first time, how his skin was pale in comparison to hers.

It was a small charm he was putting on her.

Originally, her instincts would have told her to get away, to fight, with having someone's hands so close to her throat. But again, like in the several months that have gone by, she has become increasingly comfortable with him.

"I had gotten this there too," Pietro explained.

The necklace was simple, yet, very stunning. But then again, she liked the simple things and didn't care much for elaborate things, especially gifts, she had slipped out once.

Her mouth parted feeling his fingers slide to the back of her neck. The charm itself was what stood out against the against the simple small chain he must've pickpocketed.

"You like it?"

"Yes," she breathed.

He smiled. She felt him pulling back her hair and fastening it behind her. "Good. Then keep it."

She was shocked. Why was he putting it on her? Surely his mother would have loved this. "Why—-"

"Don't ask how I got it or where it came from—doesn't matter," he interrupted.

"-—why are you putting it on _me_?" she finished anyway, still questioning his motives.

"Because," came his answer.

She waited but he didn't add anything after.

She felt his hands linger near, ghosting the back of her neck, the other grazing her shoulder. He was shivering greatly.

"Because...?" She wanted to hear him finish. She knew that that mustn't be the only thing he was thinking nor wanted to say—he's constantly speaking so quickly and could come up with some things before she, which is something she's never crossed before meeting him.

"Because," he repeated, walking to and seating at a yellow arcade game.

"You're not gonna say it?"

"You want me to say it?" he rolled his eyes. She hard the jingle of it turning on and his attention drifting as he began playing, focusing on the game as if she wasn't there.

"I want you to finish it," she insisted.

"No."

"You don't want to?"

"I don't want to."

"What's so hard about it?"

"Nothing's hard about it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"No you're not."

"Yes I am."

"No you're not."

"Yes I am."

"No you're not."

"Yes."

"No. You are."

"Yes I am."

"No you're not."

"Yes I am."

"No you're not. Are you sure?"

"Yup."

"What are you so sure about?"

"That it isn't difficult to say?"

"Say what?"

"That I got it for you—-"

Rainy turned her head so he wouldn't see her smiling hysterically. She heard the game announce a lost play and she slyly covered her mouth. He didn't move and for many seconds remained seated at the game.

GAME OVER

"Why thank you, Pietro," she announced in a singsong voice, admiring the pendent. "I didn't know you had such taste."

He remained still for several seconds more before slowly turning. "That was just wrong, you know."

"Really, it's nice. But you know I'm still in debt to you." She held the pendent hanging just shy of her shirt line.

"Don't try to change the subject." He stood. "That was dirty and you know it," he pointed a finger at her.

She looked up to him in innocence. "What's dirty about it? It was all fair according to the laws of trickery."

 _'There's laws?!'_ he thought briefly before realizing it wasn't real.

He shook his head, announcing he'd "be right back." Rainy shrugged. It would give her enough time to finally check her phone—he _never_ let her be on her phone when she was around him; he didn't like it for some reason though she wasn't one of those who stayed on it all hours of the day.

But she was given less time than she thought, and he was back in mere seconds finishing up eating something on a stick that gave his mouth a colored tint. He paused on the stairs, eyeing her on her device, as she hadn't noticed him yet. He finished eating, ran to throw the stick away, and was sitting down on the couch a second later. Rainy only looked up when his finger was atop her phone, closing it shut.

"Can you not be on that right now?" He sounded irritated.

"And why not? You were taking a while," she lied, teasing him nonetheless.

He sighed for the umpteenth time that afternoon.

He's known Rainy for a long time now, knows how she is and what buttons to not press. But still, she remained a mystery to him. As much as he'd try, once he'd find out one way she ticked, there was some new fact to learn, and he could never fully get it.

But whenever she was here, he felt as if he could breathe, like he didn't _have_ to constantly be ahead of everyone else and the world. He could take his time without worry about trying to impress someone or fully hiding it.

Well, scratch that last one. He still hadn't told her that he was a mutant.

She turned to him. "I'm going to ask you something, Pietro, and I want you to answer honestly."

It wasn't even a question. Nor did she leave room for him to say anything—her eyes bore into his, hard, unwavering, waiting. He turned his mind from the fact that her leg now touched his.

The request was so sudden.

They had just had a similar conversation to this, months ago.

 _As far as he knew, she had declared herself a love interest._

 _Or was it more of questioning to be?_

 _Was that all in his own head? ? ?_

 _Oddly, there were less verbal razors being thrown today._

Last time, she had asked if he could see him as someone dear.

"Uh, O..Okay..." He then paused. "Why?"

"We've known each other for how long now? Four years, I presume?"

He shrugged. It went unnoticed.

"And including that time that you helped me in the past; how long does that push it forward? One, two, perhaps?" She was now speaking to herself.

"..Well actually, it has only been two years, I think," he corrected upon deaf ears.

She shrugged. "The point of the matter is the standing ground."

"Standing ground?" He sounded unimpressed.

"As you already know that I still owe you favor for last time, I'm curious: what time of relation is this? Would you say it is the same as a debtie is to the debtor? Is it the same as two who just know each other?"

"Will you stop with that whole debt thing; it's going to make getting along with you harder." He inched away just the slightest bit.

"Getting along, huh?" she mumbled. She slid over as well.

"Yes."

She put a finger to her chin, thinking to herself, forgetting he was there.

He decided to break the silence. "'Kay then, tell me, if you are serious about all this, what would you gain by me telling you?"

She pouted. "I seemed to have not explained myself clearly." She started over: "As you already know, I still owe you favor for last time. That is something that will not go away. What I am curious about is how you possibly couldn't have thought during any point and time the possibilities before, given how quick you are. But no matter how smallness of a human being you are, I'm not going to leave your side, at least until we can stand on equal ground and then, maybe, we could consider being friends."

 _Friends._ He grumbled, "well don't hold back, why don't you."

 _Just be friends._

"So, until we are on even footing, I am in debt to you and we'll have to come with a way to even it out. Repay. Perhaps there's something you want me to do? But just this once, I'll do anything." She raised a leg beside her on the couch.

He raised his brows in disbelief. _Anything?_

She raised a finger under her chin, a habit she does when she's thinking. It went unnoticed that he reached for a Rubik's cube on the side table. He leaned back into the couch, letting one leg up and facing her to make her think he was paying full attention.

"What sounds good to you—should I cover for you on one of your sprees?" She indicated towards the televisions with the labels still on them. 'Or would you like me to bring you lunch for a week? ...Whichever escapade I could assist with. Or I could wear of any attire of your choosing for an entire week."

"...You...are blowing this...all..out..of proportion." He was half-occupied.

"Well, we must come to an understanding for the sake of all mankind."

He rolled his eyes and didn't answer, continuing to turn the cube in his hands. When Rainy saw this, the tension in the air immediately spiked.

"Hey."

He didn't answer.

She shifted, crawling forward. "When I'm talking, have your attention on _me_." Her calm tone began to harden. She was now turned fully towards him.

"Someone sounds very selfish today," he mused.

Pietro finally looked up feeling the couch's weight dip. She was fully turned to him, both knees buried into the cushions. The cube paused in his hands.

"Now is that anyway to speak to someone who you've known for so long?"

He turned back to the puzzle in his hands. "This is a way you can talk to _anyone_."

Right then, he could swear that she moved closer. He completely stopped then.

"Who has saved your butt for many times. Who has came here out of free will only for simply just to."

 _closer_

"Who deals with your study habits. Also, you should reconsider when you steal again because your tactics are sloppy and that's why you keep getting caught."

CLOSER

He opened his mouth to toss back some kind of retorting insult, only to have his voice lodge in his throat. He wanted to scoot back but couldn't. His shoulders hit the end of the couch.

CLOSER

"This attitude, this arrogant, selfish, insensitive persona that you put up isn't very convincing anyway. Because it isn't you, Pietro." All the while she spoke, her voice did not raise but stayed the same, which made him even more nervous and on edge even further. She crawled closer still.

CLOSER

"Because that's not the type of person I want to be with."

 _pause_

 _pause_

 _PAUSE_

"P-person you wa...?" His voice barely sounded, breaking off into a stutter.

 _PAUSE_

"And besides," she continued, "when were you going to tell me you were a mutant?"

One could swear that time itself stopped at that moment. The room was so silent, they heard the sound of his littlest sister dropping a fork to the kitchen floor upstairs.

Pietro didn't dare to move. He wouldn't have been able even if he wanted—Rainy had him pinned, literally, down to the couch. With one hand on the back of the couch, the other near his side, he was left to stare up in her eyes. And what he saw in them, he couldn't exactly put his finger on—she wasn't angry, well not completely, but also worried, he guessed.

He wanted to move, but having her kneeling between him, made it difficult.

"Uh, Rainy," he swallowed, "you mind letting me move..?" She watched his brows raise and her eyes narrowed.

She leaned in closer to his personal space, daring him. "No."

He swallowed thickly, his mouth left open in a low "uhhh..."

She was so close; their faces were almost touching.

His face was burning again.

Silence followed for what felt like hours.

Rainy narrowed her eyes further before suddenly sitting back and off him. She was done questioning him—and he _still_ didn't answer either of her questions. She knew she wasn't going to get any answers for the time being so she was ready to go home and maybe confront him on another day. She leaned back, swinging her feet over and readying to stand. What she didn't except was for him to follow her.

The look on his face was hard, his eyes evident that something was processing behind his eyes.

Almost instinctively, he followed her as she sat back, keeping the distance between them to a minimum. Rainy backed away but he remained, keeping his gaze unwavered. She placed a foot down; his hand came down near her thigh, trapping her.

"How long? How long have you known—-?" It wasn't even a question. His tone was cold.

"For more than a few months now."

"-—how long have you known I was a mutant," he finished.

"Oh, that. About three weeks, I suppose. I wasn't sure at first.."

He went quiet, searching her eyes. His face was stone, a completely different turn than his normally energetic composure.

She inched a leg further off the couch.

Silence, continued, until:

"Is that the only reason? Is that the only reason you even kept talking to me, kept coming? Why you're here? Because if you're here to expose me or anything, you know I can have you done away before you'd know. Why _are_ you even here? You've never wanted anything to do with me before. Is this some stunt you're trying to pull, because if it is, it isn't funny and you better be know I will get you back. What, you're gonna go and tell everyone now; is that your plan all along t—-"

"You really _are_ stupid."

This cracked the tension in half and stopped his accusation in its tracks.

"You really think I care about?" she answered.

 _A child born from parents who do not agree on the same views_

"I just wanted to know why you tried to keep it a secret. Anyway, I wouldn't be here other on my own accord, only. I thought you would know that by now."

He could only stare with large eyes now, but quickly regained his composure. "That still doesn't answer the question. Are you gonna tell or not?" He tried being stern again.

She just smirked. Rainy leaned up again, much to his surprise, and pushing him back from kneeling over her and flat on his bottom. "What's it going to take to make you relax," she sighed as if in pity, leaning closer until he fell back on to the pillows.

He was shaking in front of her due to dread, fear, and adrenaline. His heart hammered in his chest.

She hummed, her breath mingled with his. She noted his foot tapping rapidly on the carpet and how he itched to move. "We're going to have to do something about this. You have too much energy than you know what to do with."

He felt a hand on his chest—well, what he thought, prayed, was her hand.

Rainy was enjoying torturing him more than her own good.

Pietro felt the hand ghost down to his shivering arm.

Her fingers ghost across his pale skin. "And we're gonna have to work on this," she indicated to his rapid tapping.

His gaze followed her touch. When they looked back up he couldn't diverge from noticing how close their noses were touching.

She was keeping him here on purpose, much to her cruel enjoyment.

Pietro swallowed thickly. To be honest, he was beginning to feel a bit insecure under her impassive eyes, and squirmed from the feeling.

Rainy smirked defiantly. But then her face changed and dropped. She wasn't sure if it was because she hadn't eaten that morning and was growing dizzy, or that she was certain that she would have to make a psychologist appointment that day—but she could swear that Pietro's face was moving closer and closer to her. Rainy's eyes widened.

The room was once again quiet

She found her other hand inching backwards, but the rest of her didn't, couldn't.

It was the only part that listened

 _"Um.."_

Rainy bit her lip.

 _Pause_

Pietro began asking, "what?" when her brows furrowed.

"What are you doing?"

 _What_

 _are you_

 _Doing?_

Pietro froze, face slightly tilted to the side. His enlarged brown eyes searching hers before she suddenly sat back.

He could tastes her breath on his lips

"I...I—-uhh—-?"

Rainy recoiled herself from near him and turned to the stairway. He didn't hear notice the sound of descending steps until he heard Wanda's voice behind him.

His blood ran cold for that split second

RED LIGHT

Wanda waved, greeting Rainy. She asked her brother: "Marya wanted me to come down and ask you if you knew where our sister's hair bows for her dolls were."

Pietro sounded more irritated than he meant to. "No. Now what the—-"

Wanda turned to Rainy. "And she wants to know if you'd want to stay for dinner. She's gonna order out because she's certain you wouldn't want the weird Romani food she cooks."

"Dinner...?" Rainy glances at her watch, sees she's almost half an hour late and bolts off the couch. "I can't; I'm late, almost half an hour late to be back home!" She rushes to the stairs, excuses herself past Wanda. "Thanks, but no thanks. Sorry."

When Wanda turns back, she sees Pietro standing from the seat.

"I can take—-"

Wanda cuts him off, holding her arm out in front of his to stop him. She shook her head and the sound of the front door shutting echoed down to them. Wanda didn't believe it was time to _show_ Rainy their power.

Pietro shuffled on his feet, antsy, frustrated, irritated, and slightly confused.


	13. Chapter 13

**For the rest of Touch, this is what was planned to happen. Each bullet point is a different chapter. Please keep in mind that these are all crudely made outlines and plot points:**

● There was a planned wet dream for Rainy that, for her, was confusing at first because _why him?_

● It's several days after the Pentagon incident, and after Rainy visited Pietro, after there was tension for a possible, plausible jump further into their relationship that would have been feet first and blind, but it doesnt happen—days after that and while on a working shift at her new job at mall with Sherry, Rainy overhears Erik Lensherr's speech at the White House on tv. At home and at the same time, Pietro watches the speech, begins thinking, "i think i did something wrong". Also at the same time while contemplating running away, Ronny hears half of the speech before his father cuts it off; Meisha and her uncle and parents watch it and encourage her too to be proud of her mutation; while together in the living room and watching it, Clarice's mother looks to her daughter in worry.

There was to be a line break, and the insert of the chapter "Keep The Freaks In Cages" from the original draft if Instigator (it's still posted on ffnet), which takes place literally the day after Erik's public speech, and is about Rainy discussing it with her anti-mutant father who is running for mayor.

With her mother, Clarice begins piecing together the coincidences of her changed or raised emotions and other's reactions, almost as a consequence. Like a light switch, it hits her—she's a mutant, and she approaches her mother about it, who had the exact same mutation, and accuses her like Clarice has been hurt, about why she never told her daughter, why keep this from her? And Clarice begins questioning about her life and what is real—is her mother even who she days she is, or had Clarice been manipulated all this time? And what about Clarice's social life? Are her friends even her friends? Do people truly like her, or has she unintentionally manipulated them? Has she gained her popular status all because of her mutation? What about herself is real? What is fake?

● There was to be a chapter about the Maximoff twins because Pietro starts feeling so much guilt and is stressing so much that it screaming to Wanda, and he very easily cracks and tells her about meeting three strange men, breaking into the Pentagon, and now he believes he rescued a criminal. At first, Wanda doesn't want to believe him, but he's so distraught from the thoughts literally haunting him, that she has to. And when she does, at first she's pissed. And then she's frantic. Because if this criminal has seen Pietro's face, then he probably already has a red target on his head. Along with that, Pietro reveals everything like a water faucet—about his meetings with Rainy, about stealing the school's mascot head, about the things he's stolen, how her school reputation linked with his is so horrendous, and more. Afterwards, Wanda has to rethink what she thinks about her brother.

Next, would be about Rainy sitting on another one of her father's press meetings about his running for mayor, and her having to listen to his anti-mutant answers about Erik's speech and the mutant population in the city. And she has to smile at Deborah and put on a face as if the fact that the woman is her father's side-piece of ass doesn't bother her.

Ronny's teeth have begun to deform, growing more pointed. He's much taller now, towering over most of his classmates. His skin is constantly dry, the skin scales unmistakeable. His senses have heightened, especially smell and taste. He believes he's going crazy.

● Things change after Erik's speech. There's some tension throughout the high school.

Plus, Meisha has changed, beginning to embrace her second voice and listening to it more instead of fighting against it —which is very, very threatening because the voice still speaks of violence and force as the way to love problems, and Meisha has made a habit of testing how hard and sharp she can transform her hair, and how neatly she can cut through hard objects. Her parents do not know. Her uncle does and he's proud.

Pietro approaches Rainy one day after school—which is making noise at her bedroom window until she opens it with the excuse that she stood him up and she needs to apologize; tells that he needs to ask her something. And because she's grown a soft spot for him now, pulls him up to her window on the second floor. "I think I did a bad thing... I need your opinion, but don't judge me, OK?" She asks, "then why did you come to me?" He rolls his eyes before admitting, with very clear fear, about what he did at the Pentagon, Erik, and that he's been thinking, and is deathly afraid of the possibility that Erik could be his father, but Pietro's too afraid to ask Marya about his mother's relationship. He's also afraid that he's going to turn out like a criminal like his father, even though when he steals, it's because his family is poor. Rainy agrees to not judge him, but also tells him that despite his fear, it's not a guarantee that he will end up like his supposed father, that he isn't going to end up like Erik. Silently thankful, Pietro rests his head in Rainy's lap and it's the first time he's barred himself; she's done it back when her curse was lifted, but he'd been closed off more than she. And also, she begins to realize, she finds happiness when she's spending time together, this moment making her heart feel lighter. And there's a silent agreement that this moment will remain a secret.

Wanda is announced as the official second host to the school's radio station. Clark now knows her name, and soon, matches it to Wanda's face.

● Since then, relationships change. Ronny becomes distant and rare seen, while Meisha attempts to get close again to Pietro. Clarice begins sabotaging the relationships within her close group of fellow popular students due to her questioning everything and everyone around her. Wanda continues coming out of her shell from gaining a spot in a friend group who she becomes actual friends with. When Rainy and Pietro talk now, their relationship has changed, feeling closer. Pietro also vows to no longer steal, still in fear that he would become like his father.

Meisha is still passive aggressive whenever the mention of Rainy is brought up. (Especially because it's now February.) It becomes a warning flag when, by persuading and advising from her uncle before he leaves, his vacation over, she starts wearing her hair looser, unbraided, and in a singular ponytail. Pietro pauses, stills, is a bit afraid to scoot away form her in safety and at her newfound, very abrupt and almost threatening growing confidence. But they both agree to go visit Ronny due to his uncharacteristic absence. But when they get there, none of his family members are home.

Wanda is no longer attached to her red hooded jacket like a crutch. She now begins styling her hair with clips and wears studded earrings.

Sherry is convinced that she's in love with her beau, and is giddy with excitement at the thought of what he will get for her for Valentine's Day come the next school day.

There's another attempt of Rainy's father wanting to grow closer to his daughter, but she doesn't put in an effort.

● It's Valentine's Day. Sherry waits expectantly for when she's to see her beau. Michelle receives three secret admirer cards, one of the senders approach her and asks her out. Wanda watches on beside the rest of her friends, watching like it's an episode of The Bachelorette and Michelle has to decide whether to give him rose or not.

Ronny comes to school in long sleeves, keeps his distance, doesn't interact with anyone, and adamantly avoids both Pietro and Meisha.

Wanda ven recios a secret admirer note. She blushes, smiling brightly for the rest of the day with it held to her chest.

While with Michelle, Rainy finds a note slipped in her locker. At the end is scrawled, 'I think you sure are beautiful.' Wanda sees because she's also walking with Michelle and knows immediately that Pietro wrote it; it's shown on her face but she doesn't say.

Meisha is more so bitter that she doesn't receive a Valentine's card from the one she's hoped for, rather than not receiving one at all.

Sherry's beau admits that he forgot about the holiday, and bought a crudely made cookie for her to makeup for it; the act was more careless than it was thoughtful. Sherry is disappointed, doesn't give him the heartfelt card she had written or lollipops bought.

It's later when they meet again and are alone that Pietro asks out Rainy. (The conversation was already written down.) Though, it's actually more like a very slow, very hesitant "I...probably love you" from Pietro. Rainy pauses, thinks, then asks, "probably?" His excuse, "because I've never loved anyone before. So I don't know really." She thinks this is plausible, and a good reason, and tells that she understands. He's a bit shocked, "you do?" "Yeah I do. It's the same for me too. I've never loved anyone before either." He dares to ask, "so...by the way, do you love me?" She muses, "well, more or less." He accepts this; "so then now what? will you date me?" And Rainy thinks, then shrugs, "whatever." Pietro's unsure of how to take that. "It'll be alright if we date or even if we don't," Rainy explains. He nods that she's right, and she agrees "yeah I'm right." And though the silence that passes between them doesn't feel too awkward, the thought irritates Pietro, so within seconds he asks, "so you won't date me?" And again she shrugs, so he tells, "I don't mind either way." "Ok. Then I won't date you." This time, the silence carries emotions and Pietro is staring at her in annoyed disbelief to which Rainy does not understand why. "But," he gives, "you said you love me." "Dating or not is different question. Besides, there's probably someone better for you to ask." Somehow they both wear straight faces. He admits, "But...for me...there's only you, you know?" This time, Rainy takes a moment to believe him, "for real?" "..Well, I don't know." "So you don't know after all?" He nods, "yeah, so can I date you?" Now, underneath her seemingly indifferent exterior, she grows flustered, "no, you can, but...do you really want to date me that much?" And now Pietro takes several moments to think it over that was mainly only to mess with her.

Before arriving home, Wanda runs into Meisha. The twin hasn't seen Meisha in a long while, but immediately picks up that the other has changed in some way that makes her very concerned and very wary. And who Meisha smiles, Wanda comes frightened, feeling as if she's staring at a calm hiding a storm. She's fearful of Meisha, who has been acting strangely, and who Meisha's hair moves on it's own and without constraints while out in public (without the cover of their own homes), Wanda knows that it is only a matter of time until Meisha does something disastrous.

Clarice tarnishes most of her relationships and friendships. She announces more so than asks hr mother to drop out of school. She's spiraling downward, and any living thing in her wake booms depressed, or unstable in the head, or unsteady.

● The next day at school, Pietro and Rainy attempt at holding hands after witnessing a student couple kissing in departure. He asks if she'd like to try it. Here defense is that they "haven't even held hands, and all of a sudden kiss?" He nods that she's right, offers, "then let's hold hands." Rainy frowns, answers, "that's troublesome," and Pietro recoils his hand. He asks, "then...what would be ok?" Rainy shrugs and asks what he actually wanted—and though she's mostly calm in the face, she's completely clueless and hopeful that he'll insist something because she's too scared and self conscious to initiate it herself. "It's just that," he begins, pauses, and then, "since we're finally dating...don't you want to try anything?" And because Rainy doesn't want to seem like she's too eager, but also because she doesn't have a romantic bone in her body and has a terrible sense of humor, says, "I guess kissing you won't kill me." Pietro gives her this stare that is both offended and disbelieving. When they do finally hold hands, both stone faced, he asks her "so how is it?" She gives a nonchalant "eh." And he gives her that look again.

Ronny skips school, planning to run away. He runs into a team of mutants who take pity on him, on his mutation, and his fear ad unfamiliarity about it. He stays with them for the day and tries to find the strength and courage to look at himself in the mirror—because he's got scales and he's much taller than before, and his eyes change like a lizard's.

Wanda finds out who her secret admirer had been—one of the school's soccer players, a foreign exchange student from Argentina.

Sherry breaks up with her beau. According to him, they were never in an official relationship, and the entire conversation is treated like a brush off the shoulder to him.

● Now, it's known that Pietro and Rainy are dating—they've gone on a few dates, experimented with a few more romantic habits such as arms around shoulders or waists and they try kissing (which was only coming close but never actually touching lips). It helps that both were already comfortable and familiar with each other, their ugly dark secrets now known to each other. Michelle still cannot see them both happening, as several people, and Wanda feels the same way a little bit. Sherry's opinion is "finally!" Meisha is nearly angry. The only teasing they experience was from Thomas, who had ben Pietro's friend back in middle school before becoming his bully. But even then, aside from Thomas, Pietro has become so irrelevant that no one cares that he and Rainy are dating—which is a relief.

Also, Ronny returned home the next day and receives an earful from his mother. He learns that in his absence, his father finally packed a suitcase and left.

Wanda sees Rainy sometimes, and the two have begun to talk. It's slipped that Wanda doesn't know any details, but knows that Rainy isn't fond of her mother. Meaning well, Wanda tells that at the very least, Rainy should be grateful that she has a mother in her life, not explicitly revealing that Wanda's own is dead.

This news quickly reaches Marya who becomes uncertain and concerned about Pietro's choice—because, she reminds him, her father is very likely to become mayor, and he's against mutants being seen as people, and being with her could very well be a trick if not a threatfor his safety. The rest of the chapter was planned to be this conversation, about Pietro not wanting to believe his aunt at first, but remembering how right she is, and though he highly doubts that Rainy would out him being a mutant, the cloud of worry has set over him. She re-instills the reminder about the Cuban Missile Crisis (which was at the end of X-Men First Class) and how much mutants are not being welcomed, and Pietro retreats into himself, and begins avoiding Rainy and takes a lot of time to himself during the next couple of days in order to get his thoughts and emotions in check.

● During the next time Peter and Rainy are together it's weeks later and him initiating a study date for upcoming exams. She tells him that they can no longer study at her house because how much her father has become down talking mutants, particularly after a file of his went missing, which Rainy concludes he must have forgotten who he'd given it to, but her father glued to the idea that somehow a mutant stole it. Pietro is half parts unexpected for her act in that gesture. "Why would I not," she gives. It's unspoken, but they both know it's because she cares for him, truly, and doesn't see things eye to eye with her parents—it's because she loves him.

Wanda is now popular from her little gig at the school's radio station. She feels good—about herself, her high school experience, everything—and it shows at home too. Marya likes it, proud and happy for her.

However, when Rainy is picked up from school one day, it's revealed that her mother is in the hospital after coming close to an overdose. She skips class for the next two days. On the second day, she sees her mother and when the room is empty, she vents to her mother. Rainy tells that she hates how her mother acts; Rainy hates that she's more mature than hr mother; she hates that she's been looking after her mother, making sure she eats, doesn't smoke too much, keeps emergency numbers and poison control hung on the refrigerator, since Rainy has been in sixth grade, and she's now in eleventh grade; Rainy hates that she isn't able to confide in her mother, isn't able to get close to her because of this; that she hates feeling like she's the caretaker instead of the actual caretaker; hatesthat it's like her mother is trying to be more of a friend instead of a parent; that all Rainy wants is a mother and nothing else. Her mother does try to make excuses and defend herself, but Rainy talks over her because she's tired, and sick of her mother's childish behavior and keeping around (swinging) which has never been explained to her and has always ben swept under the rug. By the end of their talk, Rainy's face is red, liquid coming from her eyes and nose and it's hard for her to breath from crying, and her mother stares back with tears in her own eyes. By the end of their talk, Donna apologizes to hr daughter and admits her wrong. It's a small step, but the road for recover was marked then.

● Mid semester exams are taken. Rainy doesn't get the score she'd ben hoping for, she admits lying across Pietro's comforters. He teases about his score being higher, and that maybe now he's the smarter of the two. Rainy highly doubts it, reminding of a really dumb choice he's main fairly recently. And on his bed is where they share a very quick, shy kiss—him leaning over her and she's calm and he's blushing.

Rainy thanks Wanda for her advise, and the two are growing closer.

Wanda gets a call from the Argentinian foreign exchange student. He's nervous as he attempts to ask her out on a date that's more of a nervous jumble of words than an actual request. But Wanda goes. Unfortunately, it doesn't go as well as she'd hoped, not liking the things and intentions she was able to read from him by using hr powers.

Clarice is taken out of school.

Meisha isn't heard from, having drifted to become a somewhat loner. Every day she grows increasingly angry—really, it's jealousy, because though she doesn't romantically like anyone, there's a certain possessiveness within her that makes her want to have the strongest specimen for herself. She doesn't have to like him in any way, but her second voice has convinced her that if she doesn't have the strongest, best human on her side and fond after her, then there's the threat that someone else will take them and use them against her, or they will turn on her and kill her. And for Meisha, the only strongest, best, fastest humans within her vicinity are Pietro and Wanda Maximoff.

There's a line break for a time skip; When Rainy's mother is released from the hospital, she and her daughter talk once more. Again, Donna apologies for the years of her childishness and promises to get the help she needs—therapy for her emotions—though it's a bit reluctantly. Rainy lies hr head in her mother's lap while her hair is stroked, and goes a bit further and asks her mother to quite smoking marijuana and sleeping around (or less). Rainy falls asleep in Donna's lap, relaxed and a few tears leak from her eyes as she sleeps. Thinking they're close enough now, when she awakes, Rainy reveals that she had been cursed by a mutant pseudo shaman at a carnival she'd gone to with a few friends several years ago, And because her emotions and physical feeling and some memories were taken, that was the reason for Rainy's stoic and emotionless behavior for all those years, and probably would have told her mother about it if she had felt more comfortable and their relationship healthier; when asked who else knows, Rainy tells that only the guy she's dating knows. When she's finished, her mother doesn't say anything.

Rainy doesn't know, but her mother told this all to Rainy's father.

● Planned to be titled "Boom Clap". There's the annual event happening in town for the summer—where there's live music, food stands, booths of fun games—and Rainy suggests it as a date spot one afternoon on the back of her bike as he pedals, the setting sun bathing them. Because she's finally becoming at pace with her life, and she dares to even say that she's happy. Their grades are good now, and they're planned to graduate in the next year, and maybe soon it will be able they can say with surety that they love each other—because neither are the type to ay it aloud, but instead in little gestures and choices—and even though, there's such a bond between them now that it would be easy to say that, maybe, they actually do. Instead of going to the town event, Pietro proposes the idea to visit a neighboring city and just explore and have fun. Rainy is unsure how that could happen in the few hours of the night, so that night is the first time she experiences Pietro's mutant powers in action. It's the best night spent. The chapter was planned to be of this date, they kissing, and Pietro repeating the concerns Marya had about Rainy.

Before the end of the night, their kiss is less hesitant and more familiar and she's blushing, heart pounding. He the same way.

● Ronny has been avoiding his mother's affection, and feeling guilty about it. He's still struggling to get comfortable with the physical changes to his body. But as th scale pattern spreads to his face, he knows that he can no longer stay home. He runs away and finds the band of mutants he ran into before, and asks to stay with them. They turn him down, but directs him in the direction of others he could blend in with: the Murlocks.

Clarice has begun seeing a therapist due orders form her mother. She quickly realizes that she's able to manipulate the therapist to say and agree with anything Clarice says, and smugly, cockily, uses that to her advantage. She's advised to speak out about mutant equality, and take advantage of an upcoming speech by those running for mayor.

At home, Meisha puts on her normal, innocent face. Along, she finds joy in chopping objects with the mutation of her hair, fashioning it in the hardness and sharpness of a cleaver knife and ax.

Sherry is still upset about her "break up" but is working to get over it. She runs into Michelle while at work at the mall. It's the testing of waters as they talk. And with a little more gusto added, attempt to converse more when they see each other again in school.

It's announced that prom will be coming up soon. Rainy fantasizes about it. She also has a pleasant and pleasurable wet dream that fades to black before anything gets graphic.

● The finale/climax chapter was planned to be here. It was planned to be during one of the public speeches that Rainy Capulet's father is holding. During it, Rainy sits and glares daggers at her father when he speaks. She refuses to smile even though she's told to by her mother and Deborah.

In the crowd, Clarice is listening. Also in the crowd with her parents, is Meisha.

When the topic about disgusting, criminal mutants come up, Clarice's powers get the best of her. She speaks out against Mr. Capulet, and an an angry mob quickly forms. Not much is heard or understood what is happening until there is screaming. People part as Meisha's hair raises like tentacles in the air, and she begins stalking to the podium, her second voice knowing that Mr. Capulet is a threat to her own safety and that taking him out makes sense. She's stopped by Pietro, unseen because of speed, and nearby because of a fun outing with Wanda. Upon seeing him, Meisha calms, but then unabashedly enraged because she jumps to conclusions that he's her for Rainy, and then begins going after the non-mutant. Clarice is still there, turning the crowd into a panic, running around like chickens with their heads cut off—especially when Meisha begins making projectiles of the crowd chairs and picketed slogan signs, Wanda forming a shield and curving the projectiles from harming all who she could. Unintentionally, she's caught on a rolling camera that had been recording the speeches—Wanda freezes, her face caught on camera, and she flees—she flees before Rainy could reach her, who's running across the grass and in-between people while in a fancy dress. Pietro is not able to calm Meisha down or speed her away—her hair wild and everywhere, and touching it was like touching a sharpened knife, and therefore impossible without getting cut—before shots ring out. He's able to hurry Rainy and then her family and the other mayor-runner away to safety before the gun began shooting at open range. But by then, they've already seen his face. Regardless, he's able to save those who haven't been hit by gunshots which, to his surprise, include Clarice and her mother, and Meisha's parents. It, unfortunately does not include Meisha, whom the gunshots had been clumsily aiming for.

All of Pietro's actions are barely a blur recorded on cameras.

He isn't able to get to Meisha before a bullet hits a major organ in her stomach and then her neck.

● The incident is televised, unsurprisingly. Elsewhere, Charles Xavier and Hank McCoy recognize the mysterious blurs on screen and the citizen's sudden moved locations. They don't recognize any of the girls on screen—the semi-second glimpse of Wanda before fleeing, Rainy running through the opposite current of the crowd, of Meisha kneeling in her own blood and her eyes wild and yellow and her hair moving like a separate vile entity. Charles and Hank return to the Maximoff household as quickly as they can, knowing that the twin's family has to be in danger now, no doubly, and don't want to risk a phone call being eavesdropped on. Both return to the Maximoff residence, and tries to convince them to come with them back to the mansion where they're told "will be safe from any forces that may try to come after you. We saw the footage. You both have a knack, talents that are valuable to this world. We know that you both were trying to save all those people, but many of them will not believe you," and ask both twins and Marya to come with them. Wanda is uncertain while Pietro refuses, stating that there was no need to leave, and wouldn't even without the rest of his family. Privately, he also does not want to leave Rainy, still holding on to the little bit of hope that more people will see that they had been trying to help, and not see he and his sister as a threat, unlike Meisha (a fact he's slowly starting to accept). Charles and Hank try to convince them all a few more times, but Marya is more skeptical about them then she's ready to trust and doesn't give the "ok" to leave. Instead, when the two professors leave, the family begin making plans to leave in case signs show that the town will turn ugly.

Two says pass. Rainy's birthday is approaching. Both Maximoff twins help plan a very small event for her. It was planned to be small because birthdays haven't been a big event in her household because of her father always busy with work, and hr mother's behavior, which left it very unlikely that she would get a cake or a "happy birthday" (especially sober/not high from her mother, and in person or a hug from her father). It goes well, though wounds are very much still fresh, Pietro having just had a friend killed and the tension and worry about the opinions from Rainy's parents about Pietro. Pictures of her small cake are taken, of group photos and of others that are titled great scrapbook pictures.

It seems like everything will be going well. There hasn't been contact from any government, nothing suspicious. Regardless, Marya still keeps small suitcases near the front door just in case. It's over two weeks later and it seems like it all will blow over fine, almost perfectly. Too perfectly.

It's a weekend when it happens. Pietro and Wanda were out shopping for dinner while Marya had been preparing to leave to start her shift at her second job, their littlest sister being babysat by the television. The twins are on their way back when they see a large truck parked along the curb not far from their home. Wary at first, they enter from the back door of their home and are met by armed people in layers of bulletproof clothing, padding, shields and visors. Some have guns. Some have tazers or other weapons. They think they from some devision of the government. The twins aren't given the chance to run—Pietro tasered in his "blind spot" (which is out of eye view and behind the head/back), and Wanda tackled to the ground and both are tranquilized. As they're carried out the front door of their home, they see that it had been ransacked and everything is charred as if from a fire or small explosion. Marya and their littlest sister are lying on the ground, motionless, and with bullet wounds. The front door had been kicked down, their suitcases left untouched and burned by the front door. The twins are carried, tied up, and tossed in the back of the large van alongside the street curb. Needles are injected in them and then their world blurs, blacks out.

● Epilogue: Rainy finds out the fate of the Maximoffs two days later and on a Monday. It turns out that anti-mutant protestors entered the home, setting everything on fire, and killing Marya Maximoff and her daughter. They got there maybe twenty-two minutes before the government team had. Rainy is devastated, but also extremely betrayed, because she had revealed to no one that the Maximoffs were mutants, and her parents knew about her close and important relationship with Pietro; they knew all this, and still this was initiated.

But she also feels so, so useless because she feels like she could have done something, said something to try and prevent this from happening.

At school, she's treated with sympathy. She brushes most off, knowing it was for show. No one knew the Maximoffs were mutants, so to her school, the deaths were from blinded and misdirected leftover anger from the mob at the mayors' speeches.

Rainy is told that all of the Maximoffs were killed. (And for all her parents know, this is true.) This is the news she's told. And she graduates the next year, takes pictures including her recuperated friends Sherry and Michelle, but this is still kept in mind.

* * *

 **A/N: This had been it for Touch, the second installment The following "chapters" contain planned points for the last two installments**


	14. Chapter 14

**_A/N: "Broken" was set to be several years later. It was not planned to be a long installment, maybe seven chapters or so. In mind, it was to be the connection between both X-Men and Avengers versions of Quicksilver. I_** ** _originally had this idea before Age Of Ultron came out, and so I just stuck with it, because why not? also, this installment was planned to be published under the "Avengers" category on this site, because it picks up there._**

● "Broken" was to be a back-and-forth between the points of view between the Maximoff twins, Rainy Capulet, and tiny snippets of other Marvel characters

● "Touch" ended with some of the Maximoffs killed, and the others kidnapped.

● "Broken" was planned to open in a caged facility with Pietro and Wanda having been kept for some time. They are confused, frightened, and separated. They are told that they are being convicted for the injuries and deaths of several people involved in the consequence of Meisha Babinski's rampage, as well as their own adoptive mother, Marya Maximoff and her non mutant daughter. When being told this, both mutant twins objected, unknowing who these people are or the location of where they've woken up (having been tranquilized). They're told that they're being held in a mutant-safe (read: mutant imprisoning) holding cells. But when they're promised immunity for the alleged charges being held against them, and all they have to do is answer a few questions and tests "for DNA comparison," they're told, both twins agree. Because they're still young and desperate and terrified, and do no realize that they're in a Hydra facility until it's far too late and they're being experimented on like lab rats and when it hits that the immunity had been a lie

● Fast-forward to graduation year. Rainy is filled with guilt. She's urged, rather enthusiastically, by her parents to apply to a prestigious college. She knows that college has always been an important plan for her future that was always _going_ to happen, but now she's—she isn't sure, actually. She's upset, and heartbroken, sure, and betrayed by her family, she feels. The overwhelming emotions she has remained harbored, boiling and simmering until there's an outburst to her parents about it—about all of there feelings, that her father's campaign has ben built up on hate; about her feelings about Deborah, her father's campaign manager, and who Rainy has ben very sure for several years he is sleeping with; about Rainy's trust confounding in her mother only for it to all turn out like this; it comes out in a rush that the Maximoffs had some of the closest people she had considered family; about how the Maximoff boy had been there for her when Rainy had been cursed and neither of her parents noticed. After this outburst (which followed a back-and-forth about the differences between mutants and "us ordinary folk"), Rainy's parents conclude that it's "a good idea" for her to go live with her extended family and go to school there, which is further down south. Because then, Rainy would be out of the environment here with memories, and her mother thinks that being around her side of the family will "jog reality back in her." Rainy too agrees this would be a good idea, but silently, now too exhausted of seeing her parents' faces

● There's time skips: Rainy move in with an older cousin on her mother's side, the cousin living further south in America. She applies for local colleges, gets accepted into four, and decides at the last minute which to consider. She keeps the locket containing her late grandmother's picture in a small box of memories, and a polaroid photographs of Wanda, Pietro, Marya and her daughter at the bottom of that box. There's also three polaroids of Pietro, some he took himself, jokingly, on of him sleeping that Rainy snapped. Rainy keeps the phone numbers of her friends Michelle and Sherry, and calls them regularly. Her cousin is filled in with sugarcoated information by hr parents about Rainy's sunken attitude. But her cousin is a nice and welcoming woman who actively tries to get Rainy to warm up to her. Still, it takes over a year until Rainy comes even close to beginning to talk to her cousin like family.

● Rainy grows, and she's one of those college students who never have free time because of all the things she's doing—such as taking several classes, joining clubs, getting and holding a small job, and soon a sorority. She's tisked and teased a little about it by her cousin, who jokes about Rainy seeming to always be so busy, when does she have a social life.

● Meanwhile, Pietro and Wanda are tranquilized and transported to another facility that houses other mutants that are brutally experimented on. They stay for months that turn into years, unable to contact anyone, and not seeing the outside world. One of the mutants is a woman who can turn to diamond. Another who has spikes protruding from his body. Another who can see through walls. Pietro is tied tight with his arms and legs separated, like in the position of a starfish; Wanda is kept drugged and in cuffs. It's worse that their captures take joy in asking ridiculous questions and requests for the prisoners to "show off" their mutations like a circus act. Others in the facility ignore and neglect the prisoners.

● After the few months kept in this facility, a call is made, and soon the twins are shipped off to—Sokovia. Wanda overhears, informs hr brother in a drrugged haze. Confused about where Sokovia is, they are informed that it is the country Transia which was renamed Sokovia after boarder skirmishes and a war that happened in the past few years they have been kept imprisoned. Neither Maximoff twin tell that Transit is their home country; they don't have to, as their prisoners find out by some _files_. Before, they had been kept for perhaps two years before being transported to Sokovia for something that has to do with a _sector_. At least in their new location, they get to see the sky between being transported.

● After years in college, Rainy lands a very beneficial internship. Her major had to do with business and communication. Her goal which she doesn't tell anyone, is to help and aid mutants get out the voices and stories from mutants that would have otherwise gone unheard. She hasn't spoken to her parents in years, aside from on the holidays. She and her cousin are now rather close, and she's kept up with the relationship with hr high school friends. Rainy's old memory box now sits somewhere in a bin in the top of her closet.

● A few years later, Pietro and Wanda Maximoff have been experimented on by Hydra well into their twenties. They have been tortured psychologically, physically, and tested on by Loki's sector so many times that there is permanent scarring. They're transported to rooms, sometimes together, always kept separate. Most times their only contact was through glass that is inches thick. The effects of this experimenting and drugging and surgeries is that now Wanda has scarring on her hands and she's more telekinetic, but has little to no control on the outcome, and Pietro has little to no control on his speed, it significantly slower now too (he's seen as a blur now, compared to not being seen at all). Still, it's a year of conditioning and compromising of them "training" and to work for Hydra, in exchange for a little more freedom, to see the outside world more, and a possible release (which is a lie), until the events of Age of Ultron happen.

● But by then in AoU, Rainy now has a very steady and secure career. Her closet is filled with pencil skirts, nude heels, and dress attire. She's respected and feared amount her colleagues. Her work ethic is strong, eyes narrow and unshifting, her goals un-deterred, and her voice unwavering.

● However, this all crumbles when she sees on the news about Sokovia and she catches a woman controlling object with "red magic" and a blur flitting across the the screen. And she doesn't want to believe, doesn't want to feed that fire of hope and optimism that sparks then—because it's been literal _years_ since she was told they _died_ ; she's no longer a teenager and is in her twenties now; and she's grieved from it, healed, and she's now built up a life. She's gotten over it now—she thinks. But when the camera zooms in, the caption on the screen one of controversy about mutants, she's able to make out their faces—barely, but just enough.

● Rainy Capulet's composure snaps, splinters, and _breaks_.

● She works to get an assignment involving visiting Tony Stark and his enterprise. And maybe, just maybe, she holds on to a teeny tiny bit of hope that she'll have the ability to talk with the two new Sokovian Avengers, as the Maximoffs are being nicknamed by the tabloids.

* * *

 ** _A/N: This was the outline of this third installment. The final "chapter" here will contain the thoughts of things to_** ** _happen in the final installment to this series. The final one is untitled._**

 ** _(Also if you couldn't tell, over the course of finishing Instigator and writing Touch, the Avengers version of_ _Quicksilver became my favorite so that was the version I had in mind while writing. Just a little fyi.)_**


	15. Chapter 15

Here will be the updates on what was supposed to happen. I just want it to be posted before 2018. Check back later and I'll have updated it with actual writing


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